The Pitfalls of Madness
by Kamitose
Summary: After receiving a message from another swords girl to beware of Raphael, Cassandra seeks him out to settle the score once and for all, but is she truly prepared for what she is about to face? Future Raphael/Cassandra. Dark Fic. You've been warned. CH14 UP
1. Chapter 1: The Message

**Title:** The Pitfalls of Madness

**Chapter 1:** The Message

**Author:** Alicia "Kamitose" Guy

**Summary:** After receiving a message from another swords girl to beware of Raphael, Cassandra seeks him out to settle the score once and for all, but is she truly prepared for what she is about to face?

**Rating:** R, for strong language, violence, and possible sexual situations.

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters mentioned in this piece of fiction belong to me. They belong to Namco. Dronia Fairborough belongs to me (don't worry, she is but a very bit part, I don't even pair her up with anyone. She is not a Mary Sue.)

**Distribution:** As long as I am credited, and as long as you ask (and let me know once it's posted) then I don't care where its distributed. BUT you have to ask.

**Author's Note:** This is my first ever Soul Calibur fanfiction. This site is severely lacking in Cassandra/Raphael fanfiction and I would like to help remedy that.

* * *

The air was thick and heavy as the young woman collapsed against the withered tree that stood solemnly on the old, worn path. Dronia Fairborough had traveled many days, battered and beaten, to find the woman she was meant to contact.

She looked at the waning moon that hung in the sky. Closing her eyes for a moment she let her instincts take over. After all, she was a trained hunter and assassin, finding one girl shouldn't be too much of a problem. Especially not now. Off in the distance she heard footsteps. She forced herself to move forward toward the sound.

* * *

Cassandra had traversed this path many times before. The quest to find the cursed sword Soul Edge had brought her this way on several occasions. She no longer needed aid in navigating the mountains. This particular trip she had made against her sister's wishes. Sophitia had begged her sister to stay home, but Cassandra was head strong and refused. Sophitia had finally reunited with her husband and children. She belonged there. Cassandra opted to go in her stead.

She stopped suddenly, sensing a strange presence.

"Who's there?" Cassandra said, gripping the hilt of her sword as she drew her shield to her chest. "You better show yourself, because I'm really not in the mood to fool around."

An unfamiliar figure stepped out from behind Cassandra and pressed a sword to her back. "It would be best if you turned around and went back home, little girl." The stranger warned.

Cassandra narrowed her eyes and spun around, drawing her weapon in one fluid movement. "You know, in most lands, when someone asks you to introduce yourself, it is common courtesy to comply."

The stranger stepped into the faint moonlight. She appeared tall and lithe in crimson clothing . Her pale skin seemed almost translucent in this light and was a stark contrast to her long, black hair. A cloak billowed behind her. The stranger narrowed her vibrant red eyes.

"I have a message for you Cassandra. It is from Raphael." She said coldly.

Cassandra tilted her head to the side. She wondered why Raphael would wish to send a messenger to find her. This did not seem like his usual tactics. "Go on."

"Very well. The message is this, 'Run. Go back while there is still time.' He's coming for you Cassandra. He is not pleased with your last encounter and wishes you ill. You really ought to turn back now." The stranger replied. She lowered her head as shadows seemed to consume her face.

Cassandra laughed. "If he thinks I'm going to stop just because he can't take a beating like a man, then he's mistaken. He obviously doesn't know me very-" The stranger cut her off.

"He's not what you think, Cassandra!" The stranger's calm demeanor was gone now, replaced with an urgency.

The sudden outburst caught the young Athenian woman off guard. "Calm down, sheesh. If he's not what I think, then pray-tell, what is he?" She said putting her shield hand on her hip.

The stranger limped over to Cassandra, grabbing her by her shoulders and staring her straight in the eyes. "You do not know the madness he has succumbed to. The evil that permeates his soul. He's different from when you met last."

The wind picked up at that moment and seemed to be the only sound piercing the silence that followed the stranger's words. It was almost a minute before Cassandra could find the words to say. "How is he different? Who are you?"

"My name is Dronia Fairborough. I've been hunting those touched by the Evil Seed, finding those who are beyond the help of healers. I end their existence before they can spread their evil further. My hunt had led me to Raphael's castle. We had engaged in battle, but I was no match for his skill. I was quickly overcome by him. He has infected me with his madness. Cassandra, he is no longer human." She said brushing her hair away from her neck to show Cassandra the scars of Raphael's infliction upon her. A tear in her throat, accentuated by two, very noticeable puncture wounds. "And neither am I."

Cassandra stepped back. "What do you mean no longer human... did he do that to you? Why did he send you to warn me?"

"Too many questions and not enough time, child. He is malcontent. The seed has changed him, not just mentally. He is stronger now. The warning to run was my own. He's coming for you. Leave these cursed mountains, girl. Leave now!" Dronia then quickly grabbed the blade of Cassandra's sword. "But please, end my life before you depart. I cannot live like this. I cannot be this... thing. I have spent too many nights under his watchful eyes and too many days hiding from the sun. End me, so that I may rest before the malcontent takes my mind as well." She pleaded.

Cassandra stared wide-eyed at the woman in shock. She wanted Cassandra to kill her. She shook her head. "I won't kill you. I can't heal you, but I won't end your life. As much as I appreciate your warning, I have to continue on. Raphael may have information I need to find Soul Edge and destroy it once and for all. I am grateful for your words, but your life is not mine to take. Now please, let go of my sword."

The woman looked at her distraught. "He will kill you... or worse!" Dronia shouted.

"Let him try." Cassandra answered in a determined voice. She turned around and started to walk off towards Raphael's castle. She stopped, if only for a moment. "There are those, who may help you. Seek out the Holy Stones. They may cure you of your infliction." Cassandra offered. With that she continued on her way, leaving the unfortunate woman alone with her darkness.

* * *

Cassandra didn't stop to ponder the poor woman's fate. She had too much to do and little time to do it in. The sun shone dimly through the thick blanket of gray clouds covering the mid-afternoon sky. Her legs were growing tired from the seemingly endless walking. She wiped the sweat from her brow and removed her travel sack from her back. Pulling out an apple, Cassandra sat down and rested her weary legs for a little bit. She took a bite out of the apple.

_So, Raphael thinks he can just waltz right in and take me down... well, he's got another thing coming, that's for sure._ She thought to herself. The clouds had started to pour rain down on the girl, soaking her travel sack and cloak. She pulled the cloak's hood over her head and got back up. "Well, I might as well get this over with." She replied to the Heavens. "Destiny isn't going to wait forever."

She continued down the lonely path another couple days before finally reaching the castle. The dark clouds had been following her for days now. Putting her hand on the hilt of her sword, Cassandra cleared her throat and began to make her way up the stone steps.

* * *

A figure loomed from one of the castles ramparts, watching the young woman prepare herself for what awaited her inside. "Ah, my lovely Cassandra..." Raphael said to himself, knowing full well she couldn't hear him. "You made it here. Undeterred by my messenger's warnings. Good... it is this stubbornness that makes this encounter all the more delicious." He raised a glass of wine to his lips and took a sip.

He stole one last glance of his intended prey before gracefully spinning around and walking down the steps towards the main hall.

Tonight would be his night.

* * *

A/N: And that would be the end of the first chapter. I hope I've got their voices right so far. For those concerned, don't worry, thats the only time you'll see Dronia. She was a D&D character of mine that never got used so I had to use her somewhere, so I used her as a plot device and sent her off to her possible death. Please let me know if you think anything needs reworking. I'm new to Soul Calibur fanfiction. Thanks for reading. :D


	2. Chapter 2: The Malcontent

**Title:** The Pitfalls of Madness

**Chapter 2:** The Malcontent

**Author:** Alicia "Kamitose" Guy

**Summary:** After receiving a message from another swords girl to beware of Raphael, Cassandra seeks him out to settle the score once and for all, but is she truly prepared for what she is about to face?

**Rating:** R, for strong language, violence, and possible sexual situations.

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters mentioned in this piece of fiction belong to me. They belong to Namco. Dronia Fairborough belongs to me (don't worry, she is but a very bit part, I don't even pair her up with anyone. She is not a Mary Sue.)

**Distribution:** As long as I am credited, and as long as you ask (and let me know once it's posted) then I don't care where its distributed. BUT you have to ask.

**Author's Note:** This is my first ever Soul Calibur fanfiction. This site is severely lacking in Cassandra/Raphael fanfiction and I would like to help remedy that.

* * *

The castle loomed overhead, foreboding, and unwelcome to any weary traveler seeking refuge. Cassandra narrowed her eyes and readied herself for what may lay ahead. The words of the cursed messenger lingered heavily on her mind. _Not human anymore... then what? What did she mean that he was malcontent? Does he know more about Soul Edge? Does he have it?_

She noticed the sword fragment she carried with her react to a nearby presence. Looking up at the looming towers, Cassandra approached the massive doors. She pulled one open slowly and ventured into the old Romanian fortress. Her footsteps echoed in the empty, massive halls. She kept her eyes vigilant as ever as she scanned the perimeter where she tread softly.

The air was cold and the halls dim as the sun set outside. She made her way deeper into the castle. She felt as if a thousand tiny eyes had been watching her as she made her way through the halls. The further she went, the stronger the reaction from the shard became. She pulled it out and saw how it glowed so vibrantly. Focusing on its coursing energy, she failed to sense a second presence in the room.

As she lowered the shard, she saw him. The noble Raphael Sorel. The dark Frenchman wore a sinister smirk on his face. "Good evening, Miss Alexandra. I see you received my invitation." He said offering out his hand in a mock welcome gesture.

"More like a plea to run. Lucky for you, I don't take kindly to retreat." She retorted in a coy manner as she drew her sword and shield. She was cautious of the tall blond before her.

"Tell you to run, did she? Pathetic cur. She was about as useful as her weary blade. No matter, here you are, all the same. All haughty with your sword raised to me. As if _you_ could do anything."

Cassandra let out a laugh. "Ha! Like when I beat you before? Is this why you sought me? Still bitter over our last bout?" She pointed her unwaivering blade in his direction. "Get over yourself, Raphael. What makes you think you will win this time?"

Raphael advanced towards the young woman, his red eyes shimmering in the pale moonlight that barely illuminated the hall. "Your confidence is stunning, little girl, but realize that here, you are my _prey_. I am a hunter... and yet you came to me. I was hoping for a game of cat and mouse, but it seems that won't be necessary now." He closed the gap between them and began circling her. "Come now girl, you didn't think I'd make this easy on you... did you? No, you're smarter than that." He lightly ran his fingers through a loose lock of her hair.

Angered, Cassandra whipped around and slashed his abdomen with her sword. "Don't. Touch. Me." She snarled through gritted teeth. She held up her shield and sword, ready to strike again.

Raphael looked down at his bleeding chest. The wound wasn't deep, but it was insulting."Stupid wretch! You anger me so!" Raphael said quickly drawing his trusted rapier, Flambert. "If you wish to dance, then do so with haste. I am an impatient man." He coldly retorted. "I was hoping to speak with you further before we came to blows, but honestly, I think I prefer it this way." He dove at her with his blade, grazing her left hip.

Cassandra yelped in pain. Raphael smirked as he lavished her cries. "Surprise you, pet?"

"You wish." Replied Cassandra. "I haven't even started!" she said as she gritted her teeth through the pain.

The two fighters danced around each other for minutes, exchanging blows, a slash here, a stab there, both taking their share of bloodied strikes. Cassandra was the first to relent as she fell to one knee holding her bleeding side.

"You've... gotten stronger. So, what next for the great Raphael? Are you planning to kill me? What?"

"You ask too many questions." Raphael said darkly as he walked behind Cassandra. He grabbed her arms and held them behind her as he hoisted her to her feet. He pulled her to rest against him. "Do you want to know a secret?" He whispered in her ear. "I never had intentions to kill you. You would have been right to run. All I can offer is ruination... and power."

"Let GO of me!" Cassandra said struggling under Raphael's grasp. The struggling left her wounds searing with white hot pain. She suppressed another anguished yelp.

"Aren't you the slightest bit curious by what I meant?" Raphael asked in a seductive manner. He pressed himself closer to her. "Surely, this is not what you were expecting."

"You really like speechifying things, you know that? It's a little irritating. Do you want me to admit defeat, now? Because that isn't going to happen." Cassandra retorted.

"No, I want you to beg for your life. I want you to scream." Raphael said brandishing fangs. Before Cassandra could even react he was upon her. His teeth driving deep into the soft flesh of her neck.

Her eyes shot open as the pain, sharp and burning, rushed through body. He began to drink the blood that flowed from the wound and she could feel herself getting weaker. Her knees started to buckle. She could only choke out a few words... "What... are... you...?"

Raphael finally removed his fangs from her throat. "I am malcontent, my dear." He released her and let her fall to the ground. "And soon, my fair child, you will be, too." He let out a laugh that reverberated through the stone halls.

From behind a pillar Amy watched as her foster father stood over the fallen girl. She didn't question him often, but she wondered what he had planned to do with the girl. Raphael turned in her direction. "Ah, Amy, my dearest daughter, come here. I want you to go upstairs and put on something nice. We have a guest and we want to make sure she is comfortable." He said kindly, giving Amy a kiss on the head.

* * *

Cassandra came to hours later in an unfamiliar setting. She was on a bed that red satin sheets that almost seemed to have a glow to them. The room was lit by several candles and a torch in a wall stand that was by the door. Her damaged armor laid over a chair in the corner of the room. Cassandra looked down to see herself in a dark green dress that was about knee length.

She tried sit up, only to find the room spinning. She held her hand to her head. "Ugghhhh... what happened?" A flash appeared in her head. Combat. Swords flashing in the dim moonlight. Sharp teeth piercing flesh. Without thought her hand shot up to her neck. She felt a blood-soaked bandage over her throat. She tore it off to feel what was underneath. She could feel it. His affliction upon her. The tear in her throat was not a clean one, the edges of her skin felt jagged and sore. She walked over to the mirror to observe the wound. The skin was bruised and inflamed. The torn edges were red yet there was no blood on her. It would leave a horrific scar for sure.

A sudden knocking came from the door. Cassandra made her way to the door slowly. Her legs were weak and walking proved difficult. She finally managed to open the door. She was greeted by a short maid woman. The maid bowed. "Your presence is requested by Lord Raphael." She said meekly in broken Greek.

Cassandra looked to the maid. "Why would I want to speak to him?"

"He says you need to eat." The maid responded. "Come, this way. Hurry." The maid said as she turned around and walked off down the hall.

Cassandra followed. The promise of food was the only reason she went along. She was famished and the nourishment would help replenish her strength. She walked along the walls for support as she made her way down the ill lit stone halls.

* * *

Awaiting Cassandra in the dining room was a long table, covered with various dishes that she had never seen before in her native Greece. The aromas were intoxicating. A place was already set for her. She made her way over and seated herself. She grabbed a turkey leg and hungrily tore off a nice chunk with her teeth.

"Always such a lady, Cassandra?" Raphael asked, appearing out of the shadows in the opposite end of the room. "Such manners would hardly be expected from a woman of high standing."

Cassandra swallowed the chunk of poultry. "I'm a baker's daughter, I'm not of _high standing_... but I'm not peasantry either." She tore off another bite. She was so hungry.

Raphael walked towards the table, his hands behind his back. "Your armor and weapons... I can have them repaired if you wish." He stood beside his grand chair, watching the girl eat with such unruly manners. "Hunger, my child, is no excuse for bad manners." He chided.

Cassandra put down her food. "Damn you to the River Styx, what have you done?" She said pointing to her wounded throat. She glared at him through her bangs.

"Oh yes, that. Insurance, my dear. That was insurance that you wouldn't leave." He said pulling out his chair and sitting down. "I can't have you out and wandering, now can I?"

Cassandra took another bite. "Auh don know wha you aur, buh Ah'll stof you from whaeva you're doin..." She said as she chewed on the delicious turkey.

"Ugh, close your mouth when you eat." Raphael said in disgust.

She swallowed. "What did you do to me? I want an answer." Cassandra demanded.

Raphael lifted an eyebrow, intrigued by her determination and lack of fear, despite her obviously weakened state. "To be honest child, I tore into your throat and drank of your blood. Is that the answer you wanted? Oh, and to be quite frank, your blood is quite bitter. What sludge do they feed your people in Greece?" He was lying. Her blood was quite sweet to him actually, but it wasn't in Raphael's nature to be entirely complimenting to one of a lower class.

Cassandra grew thirsty. Beside her was a glass of wine. She took a sip of it all while keeping her eyes on her captor. "You... did what?" She stood up, albeit a bit too fast, and slammed the wine glass down on the table, the glass shattering into many pieces in her hand. She ignored the pain of the glass cutting her. "Monster! What would possess a man to do such beastly things?" She yelled. She was feeling dizzy from the lack of blood in her veins.

Raphael calmly stood up and walked over to Cassandra. He grabbed her by her collar and pulled her close, until their eyes were locked. "What is man, but a beast that walks on two legs instead of four? There are many things that can drive a man to madness. It would be best for your survival, Cassandra, if you didn't ask so many questions." He said coldly.

Cassandra felt a shiver of fear run down her spine. She squirmed from his grasp. "Monster." Was all she could say in response. She grabbed her plate and piled food on it. "I'm going to my room. Don't bother following me." She replied. She took her food and made her way up to her quarters.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Raphael said. He watched her walk off. Such grace, even with all her injuries. _You'll bow before me yet, girl._

* * *

The remainder of the night Cassandra tossed in her sleep. Visions of blood and flesh and blades danced in her head. Recollections of the evening's previous events played out like a twisted Greek tragedy in her mind. Yet something in these dreams had changed. By the end of the play, it was she who was the beast. It was Cassandra who was the monster that hungered for blood. It was her eyes that shone red with hunger and murderous intent.

She shot up in her bed, her hair disheveled and clinging to her sweating brow. Her breathing was ragged and her neck felt moist. The wound on her neck had reopened during her tossing and turning. She held her hand to it. _Curse him... the damn bastard! I'll send him to the River Styx myself. _The sun shine permeated her room. She was safe for now.

* * *

End of chapter 2. I went a little crazy there compared to chapter 1. Kind of getting the hang of this now. Anywho, comments are always welcome. :D


	3. Chapter 3: The Molding

**Title:** The Pitfalls of Madness

**Chapter 3:** The Molding

**Author:** Alicia "Kamitose" Guy

**Summary:** After receiving a message from another swords girl to beware of Raphael, Cassandra seeks him out to settle the score once and for all, but is she truly prepared for what she is about to face?

**Rating:** R, for strong language, violence, and possible sexual situations.

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters in this piece of fiction belong to me. They belong to Namco. Dronia Fairborough belongs to me (don't worry, she is but a very bit part, I don't even pair her up with anyone. She is not a Mary Sue.)

**Distribution:** As long as I am credited, and as long as you ask (and let me know once it's posted) then I don't care where it's distributed. BUT you have to ask.

**Author's Note: **This is my first ever Soul Calibur fanfiction. This site is severely lacking in Cassandra/Raphael fanfiction and I would like to help remedy that.

**SPECIAL THANKS TO ANYSIA FOR BEING MY BETA READER ON THIS FIC! SHE'S AMAZING! GO READ HER STORIES!**

* * *

The sun rose over the mountains, and as its rays hit the castle and leaked into Cassandra's room, she awoke from a frightening dream. She cursed Raphael for what he did to her, and at the moment wanted nothing more than to see him dead. She stretched herself out, finding that her muscles were still sore and her wounds still ached something fierce. She walked around the room to find something else to wear.

She looked to where her armor had been laid the night before but found it missing. Panicked, she tore the room apart trying to find it, but it was nowhere to be found. She yelled in frustration, the vibrations in her throat irritating the wound. She grabbed her throat and collapsed to her knees. She laid her head against the floor and just sat there with her thoughts, trying to erase the pain he had caused. _Why is he doing this to me?_

A light rapping against her door jarred her from her thoughts. "Lady Alexandra? Lady Alexandra? Are you awake?" the voice on the other side of the door asked.

Cassandra stood, one hand still to her throat. When she opened the door, the maid from last night stood before her. "Lord Raphael wanted you to have these. The tears have been repaired and the blood stains removed to the best of our ability. He had us up all night working on it," the maid said—at least from what Cassandra could gather from her broken Greek.

"Thank you," Cassandra said, surprised. "He had you fix my armor?"

"Yes, my Lady."

"Why?" Cassandra asked, taking the garments from the maid.

"Our lord is a man of questionable integrity—we don't ask too many questions." The maid bowed her head. "Breakfast is ready downstairs; you will be joined by Lady Amy." She gave a quick curtsy to Cassandra and took her leave.

Cassandra looked out briefly into the hall, then closed the door and changed into something more familiar.

* * *

Cassandra entered the dining hall, wearing her newly fixed armor. The blood and broken glass had been cleared from the table; in its place was a plate with a strange pastry dish. The aroma of fluffy eggs and chicken wafted from the dish. Next to it was a glass of milk. Cassandra walked over to the table and sat down.

At the other end of the table was a quiet girl with curled red hair pulled up into pigtails. She was already eating, quietly savoring the dish in front of her and not acknowledging Cassandra. _That must be Amy._

Cassandra poked at the dish before eating. "What's th-"

"Crepes," the girl said. She never even looked up.

"Crepes. Hm..." Cassandra cut off a piece and took a bite. It was quite possibly the most delicious thing she had ever tasted. "Oh, I love this—it reminds me of a _palacinka_!" Cassandra said excitedly. The crepes had almost made her forget the situation she was in. Almost. The pain in her throat and the cuts on her hand from the broken wine glass served as stark reminders of where she was.

Cassandra looked up to see the young girl getting up from her seat, having finished her food. As she walked off, her eyes looked into Cassandra's own. They shone red, just like Raphael's.

* * *

Cassandra had spent most of the day walking the gardens and speaking with the maids and various other attendants of the castle. She was trying to piece together the mystery of what Raphael was and what his intentions were. Most responses were brief or in Romanian. Those who gave her answers merely warned her of Raphael being a soul stealer, that they heard screams from the village below on the nights when he ventured down there. They feared him—of that, there was no doubt.

Night was nearing again; Raphael would surely be stirring once the sun set. Cassandra wanted no part in the madness that came upon moonrise. She hurried back inside to the castle and headed straight toward her room. She reached the door and quickly pulled it open, checking the halls behind her to make sure Raphael wasn't about. Seeing that the coast was clear, she closed the door and rested against it, her eyes closed.

"Wine, my dear?" a familiar voice asked.

Cassandra's eyes shot open. She quickly turned to open the door and attempt an escape, but he was faster. He was upon her in an instant.

"Don't be afraid, child. I do not intend to hurt you…unless you infuriate me." Raphael placed a gloved hand to her cheek, and she flinched at his touch. "Ah, so you fear me still. Understandable—but in time you will know your place." His eyes were emotionless as he looked down upon her small frame.

"How long do you plan to keep me here?" Cassandra asked angrily.

"Forever, if need be," he said with a smirk. "Did you enjoy your breakfast?"

"Delicious," she said, deadpan. "Who is Amy?" Her eyes narrowed on him. "Seems a bit young for your mistress, don't you think?"

Raphael's eyes flashed red in fury and indignation as he raised his hand to her. "Mistress? How dare you speak thus of my daughter, you ignorant creature!" His hand came down to strike her, but Cassandra swiftly evaded it.

"You say won't hurt me unless I infuriate you, but you're more than a little quick to anger," she observed, inclining her head towards his hand still poised to strike. "I'm starting to think 'forever' is far too long a time to spend in your presence. So, thanks, but no thanks—I think I'll just head home, if it's all the same to you." She turned away from him towards the door, yelping as he caught her wrist and held her firmly.

"You will do no such thing," he said in a tight, angry voice. "You will stay, and you will grow to like it."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Cassandra yelled, all anger and exasperation, not caring how much it hurt the wound upon her throat.

"Always about you, isn't it? Things aren't always what they seem on the surface, little girl." He ran his hand sharply across the tear in her neck, sending shockwaves of pain throughout her body. Her knees started to betray her and give way, and she fought back a cry. "In time, child, in time you will see things my way. I will break you, bend you, mold you like a fine sculptor molds his greatest masterpiece. And when I've finished, you will be far greater. All I have to offer is ruination and power."

"And if I refuse?" she managed to ask despite the pain.

"I'm not giving you the option to refuse. To do so would be foolish on my part. You have a stubbornness and spark that I've come to admire. I wonder how long it will take to break you of it?"

Cassandra straightened herself out as best as she could. "My sister will find where I am, and she'll come for me."

"She does not concern me, nor does she pose any threat. You will be here for quite awhile, my dear; I suggest you become acclimated to your living quarters. This is the finest room in the castle, other than my own and Amy's."

Cassandra just stared at him, her hand shielding her neck. She didn't know what to say to him. She was angry and afraid, pain still wracking her body. She was at the monster's mercy, and yet he tried to ensure her comfort. She didn't understand him. A part of her didn't want to.

He opened the door and left without saying another word. She heard the door latch shut from the outside.

Cassandra looked to the table beside her and saw the wine glass he had offered before. Having found the alcohol often helped to ease the pain of her wounds, she lifted the glass to her lips and downed its contents in one gulp. The liquid left her with a brief feeling of warmth and euphoria, and she sat down at the table and rested her head on her arm.

She thought about her current prison. The castle was really quite beautiful; no one could deny that. However, despite the beauty, darkness permeated everything there. It was much like its owner in that respect. A beautifully handsome man, finely-featured and well-built, an air of nobility about him...and with something horrifying lurking beneath the surface.

_I want to go home,_ Cassandra thought plaintively as the alcohol lulled her to sleep.

* * *

_It was mid-day, the sun shining brightly as Cassandra strolled through the streets of Athens. She was quite relieved that the events at the mad nobleman's castle in Romania had been but a dream. Smiling, she took in her surroundings in a more appreciative manner._

_She waved to the other merchants, all friends of her parents, as she went to deliver a half-dozen loaves of freshly-baked bread to one of the wealthier families in the city. As she walked, however, she noticed the streets beneath her seemed to grow darker. She looked up to the sky to see dark clouds rolling in, blacking out the sun._

_The people started to part ways as Cassandra passed. Some ducked into buildings. Others grabbed their children and walked quickly past. It was as if no one wanted to associate with her…like they were __**afraid**__ of her. As she passed by a reflecting pool in the middle of the square, she gazed into it curiously and staggered back at what she saw._

_Her eyes were a vibrant red, teeth pointed into sharp fangs perfect for tearing throats. Her skin had taken on a paler, ashen tone. She turned around quickly as she heard screams ring out through the city, only to see Athens in flames. Cassandra held her head, eyes wide in horror. __**What's going on?!**_

_She turned her eyes away from the flames, of her city in ruins, only to behold an even more horrifying sight. Laid out before her were the corpses of her family, her mother and father, her niece and nephew, her brother-in-law, and there, lying at her feet, her beautiful sister, Sophitia. All with torn, bloody wounds upon their throats._

_Cassandra stifled her screams with her hands, only to pull them away blood-soaked. She had killed them—she had killed them all…_

Cassandra woke with a scream on her lips. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she shook from the terrifying visions her dreams held for her, freezing in panic as a coppery taste invaded her mouth. She shakily raised one hand to her lips, finding blood as she drew back her fingertips. Horror rose up within her until she felt pain in her lower lip and realized she had bitten it during as she dreamed. The blood was her own.

Shakily, Cassandra stood and walked to the door of her quarters. She was surprised to find that her door had been unlocked, remembering how Raphael had angrily bolted it from the outside earlier.

Purpose in her stride, she pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway. She wanted answers, and by Athena's name, she would get them.

* * *

A/N: So I went to ask my husband about crepes and whether they were a breakfast dish in France or not because he's a food expert (and an amazing cook!)...what I got was a rather lengthy hour-long history of the dish instead. Sheesh! I am SO glad I wasn't doing a story involving chili or I'd be there all day! So anyway, I hope you like. Don't worry, I'll get to the pairing part soon enough. Hope you all like. This chapter was a little harder to write this time.


	4. Chapter 4: The Madness

**Title:** The Pitfalls of Madness

**Chapter 4:** The Madness

**Author:** Alicia "Kamitose" Guy

**Summary:** After receiving a message from another swords girl to beware of Raphael, Cassandra seeks him out to settle the score once and for all, but is she truly prepared for what she is about to face?

**Rating:** R, for strong language, violence, and possible sexual situations.

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters in this piece of fiction belong to me. They belong to Namco. Dronia Fairborough belongs to me (don't worry, she is but a very bit part, I don't even pair her up with anyone. She is not a Mary Sue.)

**Distribution:** As long as I am credited, and as long as you ask (and let me know once it's posted) then I don't care where it's distributed. BUT you have to ask.

**Author's Note: **This is my first ever Soul Calibur fanfiction. This site is severely lacking in Cassandra/Raphael fanfiction and I would like to help remedy that.

**SPECIAL THANKS TO ANYSIA FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA READER!**

* * *

Raphael walked into the dining hall and poured himself a glass of wine, swishing the red liquid around in his glass before taking a sip. The sound of footsteps resounded in the empty halls behind him, stopping as they reached the dining hall. "My dearest girl, what brings you downstairs? I have no food prepared at this time," Raphael said nonchalantly, not turning around.

"I've been having dreams..." Cassandra began slowly, attempting to maintain her composure. Yet images from the dreams continued to flash before her eyes, and confusion and frustration tore through her. She found herself balling up her fists, her arms beginning to shake. "I don't know what they mean!"

"Nightmares, Cassandra?" he asked knowingly, glancing at her over his shoulder before turning to grant her his full attention. "Go on, then."

Cassandra seated herself shakily at the broad dining table and put her head in her hands. "The last two nights," she said, voice wavering slightly, "I've started having dreams filled with blood and death. I've never had dreams like this before. Not even close."

Raphael leaned closer, intrigued and possibly amused by what the younger girl had to say. "Blood and death, you say? Do tell."

Cassandra looked up from her hands long enough to shoot him an angry glare. "Are you mocking me?"

"No, I'm honestly curious. The workings of the mind are quite a fascinating thing, don't you think?" His tone was disarmingly light and open as he moved to sit beside the troubled Athenian woman.

She looked up at Raphael with weary, red-rimmed eyes that had been dulled from a night of troubled sleep. He noted with detached interest that they had grown darker and dimmer since she had entered the castle. "I dreamt that I was a monster..." Cassandra continued, fighting back the tremor in her voice, "that I had red eyes and sharp fangs that tear flesh..."

"Like mine?" Raphael asked, flashing his fangs briefly.

Cassandra jolted upright and pressed her back against the chair. She had felt those very fangs in her throat that first night she had arrived at the castle gates, and yet she had never truly seen them before. Her heart seemed to jump up to her throat as fear rushed through her veins. "Yes…like yours," she said, keeping her words even and steady as she tried to mask her fear. She would not let him see her in a moment of weakness, even as she realized it was likely far too late for that.

"And what did you do with those fangs in your dreams?" Raphael asked her in a low voice, leaning closer until she shuddered at his proximity.

"I…" Cassandra bowed her head in shame, voice cracking as she spoke softly. "I killed. I killed people with them... People I loved…" She failed to bite back the sob building at the back of her throat.

Raphael watched as she struggled to keep her emotions in check, a small smile creeping onto his face as he savored her pain.

"I killed my family," Cassandra continued, her voice trembling. She hated showing weakness, especially in the presence of her enemy, but the visions had taken such a terrible toll on her that it was all she could do to keep from breaking down. "My parents, my niece and nephew, my sister…I tore them apart, and I didn't care."

Raphael wordlessly rose from his chair and began to walk the parameter of the table, eyes never moving from Cassandra's visibly distressed form. "Does that make you a killer, then?" he wondered aloud. "Do you feel a desire to inflict pain and suffering on others, especially those you love?"

"It was only a dream!" Cassandra said sharply, eyes snapping up to meet his. "I'm not a monster like you!"

"So certain, are you?" He turned away from her and gazed at the full moon shining through the large glass windows. "There are many types of monsters, pet—you may very well be one of them."

Anger and denial rushing hotly through her blood, Cassandra pushed the chair out from behind her and grabbed a knife off the table. "I am not a monster!" she shouted as she rushed at Raphael.

Not quickly enough, as Raphael turned swiftly towards her, catching her wrist before she could plunge the blade into him. "There's hope for you yet, wretch," he observed with a wicked smile. "Would you kill me if you had the chance?" He lowered his head to her neck, mouth resting above the wound he had inflicted. "You dream of being a monster... to be expected, pet—after all..." He quickly and forcefully wrapped his free arm around her back, pulling her close to him. "...you're becoming one."

Cassandra's eyes widened, horror dawning at his words. She twisted fiercely in his embrace, finally smashing her forehead roughly against his. At the impact, she felt Raphael's hold loosen, and she rushed towards the doors to the dining hall. "Wretched slattern!" Raphael's enraged voice echoed behind her. "You will know your place!"

Cassandra ran as fast as her tired legs would allow. Her breath was ragged, caught in her chest as she turned the corner into a hallway she had not yet explored. A wide set of doors came into her field of vision, and she quickly ran through them, slamming them shut behind her. Resting her back against the smooth oak paneling, she closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath. After a moment, with her heartbeat once again even and her breath no longer coming in short pants, she felt it safe enough to take in her surroundings.

The room was somewhat small and less opulent than other rooms in the castle. The walls were adorned with maps and paths marked in red leading to various places where she assumed Raphael thought Soul Edge might be. In the center of the room, a fragment of the cursed sword lay quiet and unassuming upon a low table. Cassandra noted the shape and size of the shard, the roughly serrated edges, and with a slight start she recognized it as the very same piece she had stolen from her sister when she had first set out in her place. As she drew nearer to it, the shard appeared to react to her presence, emitting a dim, faintly red light; the glow was faint, just barely visible, but it reacted all the same to her presence. _Strange_, she thought, eyeing the shard warily. _It never did that before…_

A dull throb of pain lanced through the wound upon her neck as she drew even closer to the cursed shard, the light growing ever brighter as she approached it. Cassandra heard a faint whisper at the back of her mind, teasing, taunting, compelling her to reach out her hand and run her fingers over the fragment. She closed her eyes, a strange feeling within her beginning to stir at the power in the shard. She reached out her fingertips, wanting nothing more than to touch it, when she felt a firm hand upon her shoulder.

"You're not ready for that yet, I'm afraid," Raphael stated in a low voice as he picked up the shard and coolly examined it. "The darkness growing in your heart could not handle the power of even the smallest of shards."

He turned to Cassandra and narrowed his eyes. "This room is strictly forbidden. Do not let me find you in here again." Raphael stared intently into her eyes until she looked away in apparent defeat. Satisfied with her response, his steely gaze softened a fraction. "You should go down to the dining hall," he said. "I'll have the chef make something up for you."

Raphael reached out to comfortingly touch Cassandra's face and was surprised when she did not flinch at his touch. Her eyes almost seemed to look past him. He frowned slightly—the shard was having a strange effect on her mind. _It must be the infection working its way through her_, he thought, dismayed. _She's not yet ready_. Frown deepening, he returned the shard to the table. "All right now, be off with you," he said irritably, ushering Cassandra out the room.

He followed her out of the forbidden room, closing and locking the door behind him. Cassandra faltered slightly once she stood within the fresh air of the hallway, placing a hand to her head and peering around in an apparent daze. "What…" she started, eyes unfocused. "…what happened?"

Raphael ignored her unsteady query, merely turning her to face the room they had just exited. "It is of no importance. All you need remember is that if you go in this room…" He gestured to the doors before them. "…there will be severe repercussions."

He turned and started off towards the dining hall. "Dinner will be ready soon. I suggest you eat something," he said coldly as he made his way down the hallway, leaving a slightly bewildered Cassandra staring from him to the doors before her.

* * *

Purpose and determination fueling his strides, Raphael reached the dining hall some time before Cassandra. Sparing only the briefest glance around the spacious room, he retrieved a bottle of his finest wine from a nearby cabinet, pouring the thick, red liquid into a nearby chalice for his lovely guest. He held it up before him for a moment, half-full, watching the moonlight slant over the glass, before pulling back the sleeve on his left arm.

_Just a little bit..._ he thought. _Just enough to feed the sickness._ Lifting his wrist up to his mouth, he sliced through the flesh with one sharp incisor, watching blood begin to pool against the surface. Raphael's eyes were inscrutable as he held his bleeding wrist over the wine glass, every so often clenching his fist to increase the blood flow. _Just enough to make true her horrifying dreams._

When the glass had finally filled, he covered his wound and pulled his sleeve back down. This was not the first time he had mixed his own blood with the wine he provided for Cassandra; he had done so for the past few nights. Tonight, however, he had slipped just a bit more than usual, as an experiment. _Just to see…_

He settled into his seat at the head of the table and waited for her arrival.

Still a bit shaken, Cassandra pushed open the heavy oak doors and entered the dining hall. A fog had entrapped her mind; something had happened in that room, something horrible, but she couldn't be sure what it was. The last thing she remembered was a metal shard of some kind that reacted strongly to her presence…and then Raphael standing before her, clearly irritated, and commanding her to never enter the room again. But what had happened in between?

As she approached the table, she saw Raphael waiting for her, her place already made.

"Have a seat," he said, motioning to what had become her usual place at the table. "We need to talk."

Cassandra's eyes held a note of disgust as she observed Raphael's cool demeanor; she still remembered the previous night's events. "About what?" she asked coldly.

"About you—about what you can and cannot do. About the future, my dear," Raphael stated calmly.

"That's quite a bit of talking you want to do. Too bad I'm not really in the mood to be lectured."

Everything about her spoke of defiance—her tone, the hard look in her eyes, the stubborn cross of her arms across her chest as she stood before the table. Raphael felt heated anger and frustration rising up within him; he'd played the elegant, noble host for her, and she thought to speak to him in such a manner?

A wicked scowl appeared upon Raphael's features, and he strode swiftly towards her, eyes narrowed and fierce. "You **will** sit down, and you **will** listen," he began in a dark voice. "You do not have the luxury of choice here. You are still alive by my good graces, you breathe because I allow it, you eat because I permit it, and if you die, it is because I will it!" His voice reached a crescendo as he reached her side and stood above her, eyes radiating malice. "Now sit down!"

Cassandra met Raphael's eyes for a long moment before finally, and with the slightest tremor of her shoulders, sitting down. Raphael circled around Cassandra's chair like a predator assessing his prey, coming to a stop behind her.

"Much better. Now, I did not feel the need to express rules before, but you, my dear, you have proven most difficult. I do not want you entering that room under any circumstances. That one rule stands above all others. You are to listen to me and do as I say. Failure to do so will result in severe punishment...understood?" Raphael said in a low voice, leaning closer to the girl's ear. He could sense the overwhelming fear and hatred rolling off her in waves, and realized with a small smile that he had begun to break her.

Raphael put his hands on her delicate shoulders, running his thumbs over the soft skin. "I can be a most gracious host... or I can be your worst nightmare. It is your decision as to which you would prefer."

Cassandra regarded him for a long moment before picking up the glass of wine before her and swiftly downing its contents. "In all honesty," she said flatly, "you're a terrible host. In fact, you're..." Cassandra allowed her words to trail off as she felt a strange stirring within her. _Something's wrong…_

Raphael smiled wickedly as he recognized the beginning of her symptoms. "I'm what, foolish child?" he baited her.

Cassandra found herself unable to answer as innumerable voices suddenly ripped through her mind, overlapping and drowning one another out, deafening and indiscernible, whispers, shouts, desperate wails, strange foreign tongues. "Stop!" she cried desperately, roughly shrugging Raphael off as she stood, a dizziness taking over her.

"Cassandra," Raphael said with feigned concern, "what's wrong, child?"

"Make them stop!" she cried, collapsing against Raphael as she shut her eyes tightly and grasped her head. "Make them stop... please, just make them _stop_…" She buried her face in his chest, body going limp as she broke into a series of hard, wracking sobs.

Raphael observed her curiously as Cassandra wept against him—this was not quite what he had expected. He slowly put his arms around her trembling form. "Shh," he attempted in a comforting tone. "That's just the darkness making its way through your body. It will be over shortly, I promise." He ran his fingers through her hair and held her tightly as she continued to cry.

After what seemed an eternity, Cassandra's tears began to subside, and she stood with eyes wide open as she trembled in fear. She didn't know what was happening, couldn't imagine what had caused such a thing, and cold terror ran through her. Unable to do otherwise, she stayed in her enemy's arms until the voices finally ceased in her mind. The sudden silence seemed nearly tangible, and even though stark relief washed over her, Cassandra felt exhausted, unable to move. Raphael continued to hold her, let her stay in his arms until she was steady enough to stand on her own. "Better now?" he asked quietly.

Cassandra remained silent. Her eyes seemed vacant as she stared off into the distance.

Frowning slightly at the lack of response, Raphael leaned down and swept her up into his arms. "I suppose we should get you off to bed," he said dryly. He walked the length of the fortress to her quarters and laid her down within the soft linens of her spacious bed. "Rest now," he murmured, brushing a stray hair from her face. "Tomorrow night we will be making a trip to the village." He spared her the briefest glance as he made his way to the door and left, closing it behind him and leaving the girl to her nightmares.

* * *

A/N: So, I was stuck for a short bit on this chapter, I knew where I was going but I didn't know how to get there (I lost mah map?) So anyway I hope y'all liked chapter 4.


	5. Chapter 5: The Monster

**Title:** The Pitfalls of Madness

**Chapter 5:** The Monster

**Author:** Alicia "Kamitose" Guy

**Summary:** After receiving a message from another swords girl to beware of Raphael, Cassandra seeks him out to settle the score once and for all, but is she truly prepared for what she is about to face?

**Rating:** R, for strong language, violence, and possible sexual situations.

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters in this piece of fiction belong to me. They belong to Namco. Dronia Fairborough belongs to me (don't worry, she is but a very bit part, I don't even pair her up with anyone. She is not a Mary Sue.)

**Distribution:** As long as I am credited, and as long as you ask (and let me know once it's posted) then I don't care where it's distributed. BUT you have to ask.

**Author's Note: **This is my first ever Soul Calibur fanfiction. This site is severely lacking in Cassandra/Raphael fanfiction and I would like to help remedy that.

**SPECIAL THANKS TO ANYSIA FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA READER!**

* * *

Raphael stood on the balcony of his room, staring at the night sky. His mind swam with thoughts of the incident with Cassandra earlier that evening, and he was quiet as he contemplated just what had gone wrong. _It must have something to do with that Soul Shard,_ he thought with a frown. _Introducing her to its power at such an early stage in her development was a mistake. Perhaps more observation might be prudent._

As he took a sip of wine, a series of soft footsteps sounded behind him. "Papa," Amy's quiet tone broke through his reverie, "what do you plan to do with that girl?"

Raphael looked down to his daughter, a flash of love and pride running through his eyes. "I'm afraid I'll be taking another trip soon, my darling Amy, and I want someone to look after you and ensure that you are safe and well cared for. I don't trust that my own guards would be strong enough to protect you from harm—I selected her because she had bested me once before."

"She won't understand us," Amy murmured.

A dark smile appeared upon Raphael's features, and a hint of madness reflected in his eyes. "Perhaps," he said in a distant voice, running his fingers through her curls. "But that will come in time."

"She'll only be here while you're gone, yes?"

"Perhaps longer. You need a mother figure in your life," he said grimly. Raphael knew he couldn't raise Amy to be a woman, certainly had no experience in the area. Perhaps Cassandra could remedy that as well. He looked out to the horizon where a deeply red-orange sun had begun to rise and stretched his arms tiredly. "Well, off to bed with you," he yawned. "I have a feeling this coming night will be rather busy."

* * *

Cassandra had lain wide-eyed and awake in her bed for the remainder of the night. Tremors shook her small frame even as she held herself tightly, wrapping her arms around her knees and pulling them tight to her chin. There had been so many voices earlier, so many...tortured, angry, afraid, sending a cavalcade of unpleasant emotions running through her mind. Even though the voices had now faded, leaving behind only a deep, uneasy silence within the recesses of her mind, sleep remained elusive even as the first light of morning began to creep into her room. Cassandra shut her eyes tightly and turned from the sun's harsh rays. The earlier episode must have drained her more than she had realized, she observed with a frown; she felt tired and weak, a general feeling of malaise and weariness overtaking her—even more so with the sun shining down upon her. She'd make a point to attempt a better night's sleep tomorrow.

Cassandra would have gladly stayed abed for the remainder of the day and indulged the demands of her exhausted mind and limbs; her stomach, however, realized keenly that she had not eaten in far too long and began to protest. Heaving a sigh, Cassandra swung her legs over the side of the bed and forced herself to leave the warm comfort of her quarters and make her way towards to the dining hall. As she entered the expansive hall, failing to stifle a wide yawn, she noticed that, unsurprisingly, a spread of delectable breakfast pastries lay carefully arranged upon the table. She seated herself and began to chew distractedly at a large, freshly-baked sweet roll.

A young maid, small and slight of frame, timidly approached Cassandra as she ate. "Lady Alexandra?"

"Yes?" Cassandra asked tiredly, tone somewhere between exhaustion and exasperation as she met the maid's inquisitive stare.

The maid immediately took a step back, a slight chill running down her spine. She remembered the vivid color of Cassandra's eyes when she had first arrived, aquamarine with flecks of gold, beautifully bright. The eyes that met hers now were dark and strange, brilliant red slowly seeping into green, a dimly feral look within their depths. _The infection has begun_, the maid thought with a shiver, and fought the urge to cross herself. "Lord Raphael wanted you to have this," she said before quickly handing Cassandra a small broach.

Cassandra spared the maid a brief, quizzical glance before turning her attention to the gift. The broach was ornate, featuring a small, silver bat wrapped around a blood-red teardrop ruby. "Thank you," she said after a moment, noting the apprehension of the young maid. "Is everything alright?"

Biting her lip in an attempt to hold back her fear, the maid took Cassandra's hands in her own. "You must leave here, Lady Alexandra," the young woman pleaded in a tremulous voice. "This place is cursed—I've seen it work its evil ways upon the master, and now I fear it must be consuming your soul. You must leave this wicked place, and swiftly, before you lose yourself completely. Please, Lady Alexandra, I beg of you, go!"

Cassandra winced slightly at the force of the young maid's grip upon her hands. "What do you mean, it's consuming my soul? What are you talking about?"

"You must flee, Lady Alexandra," the maid continued, oblivious to Cassandra's queries. "I fear for your sanity! The other maids and I bore witness to what happened last night—the master is a _monster_, my lady... you must go, now!"

Cassandra pulled her hands away with a slight frown of annoyance. "Look, I appreciate your concerns," she said, "and, frankly, I'd love nothing more than to get the hell out of here, but I can't go anywhere until I get information about Soul Edge." She cast a brief, awkward glance at the maid before standing and stretching her tired muscles.

The maid continued to regard her with fear in her eyes, biting hard upon her lower lip.

"Are you really that afraid of Raphael?" Cassandra felt her forehead lightly crease with worry as the maid continued to visibly shake. "Does he hurt you?" she asked in a quiet voice.

The maid remained silent, turning her eyes from Cassandra's concerned gaze.

"Well?" Cassandra asked, tilting her head and examining the maid's fearful face.

The maid looked to the floor, trying to avoid answering. Her silent prayers were answered when the dirt-smudged gardener came running into the dining hall, breathing heavily. "Pardon the intrusion, Lady Alexandra," he wheezed, "but that English witch is coming straightaway!"

Cassandra turned her attention from the maid with a frown, arching an inquisitive eyebrow. "English witch?"

"Yes, the one the master speaks so ill of! One of my boys saw her coming down the path, blade in hand one moment then coiled like a serpent around her arm the next!"

"Coiled around her arm?" Cassandra felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, remembering the voluptuous English noblewoman she'd faced off against in her quest to find Soul Edge. Isabella Valentine. "Where are my weapons?" she asked the maid, narrowing her eyes and glancing towards the towering paned glass windows.

The maid, fear of the master temporarily set aside, took Cassandra's hand and tugged her towards the doors. "This way!" she called, and quickly led Cassandra to the armory.

* * *

Ivy approached the castle gates, determination in her step. A solitary guard stood in her way, pike raised and ready to strike. "None shall pass through these gates!" he said shakily. He had heard stories of the English witch from some of the older guards, and had quickly come to the conclusion that she was not one to be trifled with.

Ivy smiled condescendingly at the feeble attempt at intimidation. "Stand aside, boy, and you shall not be hurt." She towered over him, sword poised to attack.

The guard stood his ground, attempting to hide the tremor in his hands as they gripped his weapon more tightly. "My master is far more frightening than you," he said in a deceptively strong voice. "I cannot abandon my post. Leave here now."

Ivy's face remained neutral as her blade swiftly transformed and whipped sharply through the paneling of the door beside him—mere inches from his face. "That was your warning," she stated flatly. "Next time I won't miss." She paused. "Now open these gates and be out of my way."

The guard stared at her for a moment, then dropped his pike and hastily did as she requested, fleeing down towards the village once he had finished. Ivy spared his retreating form a brief glance before entering the castle, a smile upon her face. "Now," she said lightly, "where is that shard...?"

The castle was strangely quiet, the only sound within its cold, stone hallways the staccato click of her towering heels. Ivy began to frown at the seemingly endless corridors and doorways, when a faint pulse ran through her. Casting her eyes upwards, she dimly felt an evil presence stirring within a room one floor above her. Definitely a soul shard. She made her way up the nearby flight of stairs, eyes set with fierce determination.

As she neared the top of the stairs, Ivy became aware of a second thread of evil, weaker than the first yet still darkly threatening. She paused momentarily, getting her bearings. _The soul shard is of the utmost importance,_ she thought. _I suppose any lesser evils will have to wait until another day_. She strode towards a large set of richly-paneled doors, reaching one hand towards them, only to suddenly feel a sharp blade pressed firmly against her stomach and a polished shield beneath her chin. A smaller warrior had silently appeared behind her.

"That room is off limits," a dark, low female voice informed her.

Ivy looked down at the weapon and shield, observing the carefully engraved Greek lettering and the feel of holy ore against her exposed skin. "So, which of the Alexandra sisters are you?" she asked nonchalantly.

"The one with a sword to your stomach," Cassandra stated angrily.

"I see—the younger one." Ivy rolled her eyes and heaved an annoyed sigh, sending her sword to snake around Cassandra's leg. "I can tell by your foolishness. Your sister would never have been so brash." She tugged swiftly on the hilt of her sword and flung Cassandra away from her.

Cassandra's head hit the ground with a resounding thud, and her eyes swam for a long moment. "I don't know what you're doing here, little girl," Ivy said coolly, "but if you'll excuse me, I have something to retrieve."

Cassandra stood on somewhat shaky legs, sword and shield readied. "I don't think so," she ground out between clenched teeth before charging at Ivy with sword extended, her sharpened blade tearing a deep laceration in Ivy's left arm. A dark smile crept across Cassandra's face as blood began to flow thickly over the alchemist's flesh.

Ivy quickly moved her own blade into a defensive position, glancing carefully at the young woman before her. _So_, she observed, _this is the other source of evil._

"Giving up already?" Cassandra taunted, and Ivy noted the dark, malicious look in her swiftly-reddening eyes. _She bears signs of corruption... Sorel, what have you done now?_

A painful pulse from the nearby cursed shard ran through her, and Ivy was sharply brought back to her mission. Coiling her blade around her arm for protection, she sharply kicked Cassandra aside with one pointed heel. "Out of my way, child," she said angrily, then turned back to the doors before her.

An inhuman growl split the air, and Ivy turned, startled, as it reached her ears. Cassandra stood beside her, sword against poised to strike. "Why do you choose to defend this madman?" Ivy asked, leveling a sharp gaze at the young woman before her. Cassandra matched her gaze with a dark, angry glare, and Ivy saw within her eyes not determination and strength but stark hunger and hatred. _Ah, I see_. Ivy smirked lightly and once more raised her sword. "Stand down, girl—I will not hesitate to strike you down."

Ivy had scarcely finished her sentence before Cassandra charged forward, a low rumble of a roar rising up within her. She dodged and feinted with her sword before moving to deliver a swift shield uppercut against Ivy's chin, eyes glinting with amusement as the Englishwoman cursed and placed a hand against her bloodied mouth. "I'd like to see you try," Cassandra snarled.

Her words came to a sharp halt as she felt Ivy's strange sword snake around her leg and bring her crashing to the cold stone floor. As her head swam, Ivy stood over her, one hand braced easily upon her hip and her lips curled in disdain. "You, little girl," she said flatly, "are beginning to annoy me." Her blade quickly whipped Cassandra across the face, slicing a bloody wound across one cheek. Another quick motion as Cassandra cried out in pain, and the blade sundered through Cassandra's shield and stopped mere centimeters from her widened eyes.

"Missed," Ivy observed in a detached voice. "A pity." She tightened her hand upon the polished hilt of her sword, pulling back with chain-whip extended before beginning to fiercely strike forward to finish her young companion...only to find her sword arm suddenly and painfully restrained and the cold steel of a sword pressed tightly against her back.

"You will leave this place at once," a darkly commanding voice said from behind her. Ivy glanced with no small amount of annoyance over her shoulder to see a visibly angered Raphael and half a dozen heavily-armed guards surrounding her. "I will not," Raphael said sharply, his sword digging into her flesh, "tell you again." He released her wrist with a final, painful twist.

Ivy looked from Raphael to his silently threatening guards, her lips twisting into a grimace. Outnumbered and injured. No choice but to retreat. She absently rubbed her sore wrist, frustrated gaze finally landing on Cassandra, who had pulled herself off the ground and stood firmly beside Raphael, sword once more pointed at Ivy.

"You're all slaves to that damn sword," Ivy said between gritted teeth. "I hope you suffer for it." Quick as a shot, her sword whipped out, piercing a nearby window and sending shards of glass raining down upon marble and fieldstone. Ivy refused to spare her opponents even the briefest glance as she leapt through the arch, landing softly upon the ground below and rushing down the path towards the castle gates, anger and defeat running hotly through her veins.

Cassandra's teeth were clenched, eyes narrowed in fury as she ran to the window. "I'm nobody's damn servant!" she yelled fiercely after Ivy's retreating form. She brushed aside a few glass shards with an angry sweep of her hand, fighting back the urge to give chase and strike the wretched woman down.

Raphael watched Cassandra for a long moment, silently observing the white-hot anger radiating from her in waves. He had seen the battle almost in its entirety, watched with interested eyes as his young warrior stood, fierce and savage, against the intruder. The dark hunger in her eyes, the cruelty, the hatred... He felt the stirrings of a wicked smile play at the corners of his lips. She was changing—of that, he had no doubt.

_Ah, but that's for another time._ Raphael strode easily to stand beside Cassandra at the shattered window, staring out at the rolling hills and twisted briars of the castle grounds. "You defended my castle," he observed, not turning to meet her sharp, sudden gaze.

Cassandra's jaw was set, her eyes narrowed as she glared at Raphael. "I wasn't defending you or your stupid castle," she said angrily. "I just need to keep you alive—you can't help me find Soul Edge if you're dead."

The barest hint of a frown appeared upon Raphael's lips, the slightest note of disappointment whispering through his mind at her words, for reasons he couldn't begin to comprehend. "Of course," he responded smoothly. "My thanks, all the same." He looked to where her battered weapons lay scarred and bloodied upon the floor. "I'll have those repaired." He turned and stretched lightly, a pronounced sluggishness in his movements. "You should get some sleep, my dear. I'm certain you didn't rest well last night after your little episode." Frowning darkly at the strange urge to brush a stray hair from her face, he shook his head and made his way back to his chambers.

Cassandra continued to rest silently against the window pane, her eyes focused upon the green and warmth outside. A pang of loneliness, of homesickness struck her as she stared at the road she couldn't travel, at the trees she couldn't touch, the flowers she couldn't smell. Her gaze traveled back inside, to the dark room around her, to blood, to broken glass, to cold and darkness. Weakly nudging her battle-scarred weapons with one foot, she fought back a tear and walked lifelessly back to her quarters, silent and drawn.

* * *

Cassandra began to undress immediately upon reaching her bedroom, laying her bloodied clothes in a careless heap upon the bedside chair. She carefully lowered herself into bed, mindful of the newly-acquired injuries that ached and protested with every movement. As she settled in between the soft linens, her mind began to drift to the subject she'd been desperate to avoid, ever since the voices took hold of her consciousness.

She was changing. She could feel it, a darkness rushing through her blood, madness and hunger teasing at the edges of her mind, hunger she couldn't bear to name. She'd felt it so keenly during her battle with Ivy, blood snaking down her enemy's arm, and fear coiled deep in her belly at the possible meaning. _What has he done to me?_ Cassandra thought weakly.

Fearful thoughts held reign over her mind, leaving her wide-eyed and uneasy for hours, until exhaustion finally settled over her and sent her headlong into a deep, troubled sleep.

* * *

_Cassandra ran through the darkened forest, her feet scraping against jagged rocks and raised tree roots. Her limbs ached from exertion; her lungs protested as she continued to run, feeling as though she had done so for days on end. Ahead she saw the gleam of a sword and shield being wielded by a masked figure. Angry, desperate, Cassandra drew her own weapons and leapt towards the warrior, grasping an exposed wrist, twisting, twisting, __**face me!**__, before plunging her sword deep into an unarmored chest. Her shoulders heaved from exhaustion as the warrior fell before her, blood seeping thickly from the mortal wound she had inflicted with her own sword. "Show yourself!" she called angrily, straddling the fallen warrior's chest and roughly tugging off his mask._

_Bile rose sharply to her throat as the corpse's face came into view, and Cassandra staggered to her feet, abject horror in her eyes as she pressed her hands tightly to her mouth._

_Sophitia. Under the mask, red, lifeless eyes staring up at her. Her beautiful sister. Sophitia._

_Cassandra stumbled away in fear and revulsion at what she had done, biting back an anguished cry that became a scream as the body began to slowly rise, reaching one bloodied arm towards Cassandra._

_"Why do you hurt me, sister?" Sophitia asked in a dark whisper, like wind rustling over a bed of dying leaves. "Why must I die every night?"_

_Cassandra retreated fearfully until she felt her back pressed flush against the rough bark of a broad oak. "I didn't mean to!" she cried._

_A twig snapped nearby, and a scream tore from Cassandra's throat as she turned to see her sister standing beside her, bloodied head held within the corpse's hands. "Why must I die every night, Cassandra?" Sophitia's distant voice repeated. "What have you become?"_

_Even as fear threatened to root her there, forever staring helplessly at her sister's mutilated corpse, Cassandra tore herself away and broke into a desperate run. Tree branches swayed violently in the wind, reaching out for her, calling her name. Hot tears formed in her eyes, rushing down her cheeks. She had to get away, had to run, even as her sister's voice haunted her every step._

_Her flight came to a sharp, sudden end as she felt a blade thrust into her abdomen, searing pain tearing through her entire body. She raised her eyes to see...herself? Even through a haze of anguish, pain rushing through her, one hand clasped desperately to her gaping wound, she could see... The high cheekbones, the straight nose, eyes bright and flashing, __**but red, always red now**__... She was clad in a strange black outfit, a cloak draped over her head, held closed by a distantly familiar broach—a silver bat, wrapped delicately around a richly red teardrop ruby._

_Fear and dread blossomed within her as the dark Cassandra smiled wickedly. "Tell her," the shadowed doppelgänger said in a dark voice. "Tell her why she must die, Cassandra."_

* * *

Cassandra's eyes shot open, a scream upon her lips as she clutched desperately at her abdomen, fully expecting to feel torn, jagged flesh and feel dark, warm blood upon her hands. But her nightdress was whole, still untainted, pure white silk. A nightmare—just another nightmare. Her fear began to subside, but her breath remained short as she cast her uneasy gaze around the room. Night had fallen while she slept, the full moon casting dark, twisted shadows upon her walls.

Hands shaking slightly, she rose from the soft warmth of her bed and dressed, aching from the wounds Ivy had dealt her earlier. She'd have to remember to properly dress the wounds later—the feel of cloth against raw skin sent slivers of pain rushing through her, but she would have to grit her teeth and bear it for the time being. Wrapping a warm cloak around her shoulders, she made her way downstairs, where Raphael lay impatiently in wait.

"Are you ready, my dear? We shall shortly head to the village." He turned briefly from the broken window to regard her with a wicked smile. Moonlight spilled over the stone arches and illuminated the sharp planes and angles of his noble features, and Cassandra felt a slight twinge of unease as she observed how utterly natural he looked here in silvered light and shadows—wicked and radiantly alive, even handsome, and she realized keenly that she had never seen him look nearly as comfortable in daylight. "Tonight is a special treat for you," he continued.

Cassandra glared at him as he easily threaded his arm through hers and began to lead her down towards the courtyard. "I'm ecstatic," she intoned flatly, attempting to keep his grip on her arm as light as possible. "Let's go."

"That's my girl," Raphael smirked, tightening his grip each time he felt her pulling away. When they reached the courtyard, faintly aglow with torches and the cold light of a full moon, a horse-drawn carriage lay in wait. The footman tipped the brim of his hat to Cassandra and turned the brass handle upon the door.

Glancing briefly at Raphael in annoyance, Cassandra begrudgingly entered the carriage, followed in short order by Raphael. Soon, the carriage began to move swiftly, if not entirely smoothly, upon the uneven cobblestones that lined the paths. "Why are we going to the village?" Cassandra asked uneasily, moving as far away from Raphael on the richly-upholstered bench as possible.

"You, my dear, shall have a special treat," he echoed his words from before. Raphael turned to her, eyes glinting with madness and a dark smile curving upon his lips as he reached to place his hand upon hers. "There is a public execution tonight."

* * *

A/N: Okay Chapter 5 is done. Hardest chapter I've written yet. Sheesh. I kept putting it off until finally I just said "Screw it! Let's get this over with!" I hope you all enjoyed it.


	6. Chapter 6: The Macabre

**Title:** The Pitfalls of Madness

**Chapter 6:** The Macabre

**Author:** Alicia "Kamitose" Guy

**Summary:** After receiving a message from another swords girl to beware of Raphael, Cassandra seeks him out to settle the score once and for all, but is she truly prepared for what she is about to face?

**Rating:** R, for strong language, violence, and possible sexual situations.

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters in this piece of fiction belong to me. They belong to Namco. Dronia Fairborough belongs to me (don't worry, she is but a very bit part, I don't even pair her up with anyone. She is not a Mary Sue.)

**Distribution:** As long as I am credited, and as long as you ask (and let me know once it's posted) then I don't care where it's distributed. BUT you have to ask.

**Author's Note: **This is my first ever Soul Calibur fanfiction. This site is severely lacking in Cassandra/Raphael fanfiction and I would like to help remedy that.

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER DEFINITELY EARNS ITS M RATING, GRATUITOUS VIOLENCE AHEAD. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

**SPECIAL THANKS TO ANYSIA FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA READER!**

* * *

The night was cold and eerily silent as the carriage came to a stop at the outskirts of the solemn village. The town seemed as gray as a dark winter's night, lifeless but for the occasional stray villager and the dimly-burning torches lining narrow streets. There was a hush over the small town, an eerie, unsettling sense of foreboding that permeated and resonated through the night, and the village peasants kept careful watch from their modest homes.

Raphael drummed his fingers absently upon his knee as he waited for the driver to come around and properly escort them from the carriage. Cassandra was tense beside him, her mouth set in a hard line, and he turned to her with a wicked smirk. "Have you ever seen an execution before, dear girl?"

Cassandra refused to answer, merely continued to gaze out the frosted window beside her. She had no desire to speak presently—and certainly not about death, not when visions from her dreams still flashed before her eyes, all blood-soaked horror and disturbing desires. She squeezed her eyes shut, gripping the hilt of her sword tightly, white-knuckled.

Raphael's eyes slanted over her, curiously interested as he noticed her paleness, the tight tension in her muscles. "Ah—troublesome dreams again?" he asked in a falsely comforting tone, running his fingers lightly over hers.

Cassandra's eyes narrowed sharply, and she pulled her hand away with a jerk. "I really don't want to talk about it," she snapped. "Least of all with you. Can we just get this thing over with?"

He leaned closer to her, a wicked smile playing at the corners of noble lips. "I believe I've spoken at length of the theory that dreams express to us that which we deny we feel."

Cassandra shot him a glare of pure, unadulterated hatred. "Fuck you," she spat venomously.

"Tsk—such language, darling. Although I'm afraid I must once more note your steadfast refusal to address my queries." His smile wavered not an inch as he gracefully exited through the door Cassandra hadn't even realized had been opened. Biting back an oath, she slid across the upholstered bench and followed him into the night.

"I hate you," she stated flatly as she settled into step beside him, a stubborn rigidness to her stride as they made their way down the twisting cobblestone path leading to the town square.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, my love," he said with a patronizing smile before coming to a stop shortly inside the town limits.

Anger once more blossomed inside her, rising up hot and fierce from her belly. "I'm not your love," she stated through grit teeth, crossing her arms tightly across her chest and casting an angry glare at him.

"Hm," Raphael observed with an enigmatic smile that left Cassandra somehow uneasy. "An argument for perhaps another time. But for now, business beckons." He reached within the richly-tailored folds of his great coat and extracted a letter written on fine, heavy parchment. "Come here, pet—I have a task for you."

'_Pet,'_ she thought irritably, shooting him another annoyed glare, but came to his side nonetheless.

Raphael took her hand and folded the letter within it. "You will take this to the third house down on the left—that wretched hovel with the crooked shutters, see?" A flash of disdain crossed his noble features for a moment before he continued. "It appears that the household has failed to pay their fief to me for some time—a stark insult that I will _not_ tolerate, especially from worthless peasant stock. I've determined that they might require a rather...stern reminder as to why I am feared."

He looked to Cassandra, reddened eyes dark with danger and purpose. "Deliver this message well, Cassandra. Take up your sword, my lovely wretch, and strike until they lie before you broken and begging pardons for their insolence. Careful not to kill them, of course, as they most certainly cannot pay tribute from a pauper's grave, and do not harm the children. A lesson must be learned, Cassandra—and they _will_ learn it."

Cassandra had listened in mute horror as he spoke, eyes wide and stomach turning even as she struggled to form her own protests, but now anger and revulsion loosed her stilled tongue, and her words came in a vicious torrent. "You want me to beat _starving men and women_?" she asked incredulously. "Raise a sword against them and leave them bloody and half-dead in front of their terrified children? And for what, a few paltry coins that you don't even _need_ except to make yourself feel so goddamn important? You're out of your damn mind, Raphael, if honestly think I'll—"

Her voice broke off on a harsh wheeze as Raphael reached out calmly and wrapped one hand around her slender throat.

"Need I remind you who is in charge here?" he asked simply, almost kindly, even as the hand at her throat squeezed, just tightly enough to impede airflow, to send a strangled choke through her trachea. "My love, you will do as you are _told_. I'm sure I needn't remind you that you live by my good graces alone." His words were level and calm, eternally cool, but his eyes bore into hers, darkly reddened with anger. After a beat, he finally released her, watching as she stumbled slightly and began massaging her throat with one trembling hand.

"Would you rather I punish them personally, Cassandra?" Raphael asked. "I do so wonder, my love—between the two of us, who would be gentler with the whip?"

Still grasping her throat, Cassandra looked up at him. "I hate you," she began, voice shaking with rage and disgust. "My gods, I hate you so much."

"Do as you are told," he repeated, eyes boring into hers, dark, challenging.

Angry tears stung at the corners of her eyes as she turned from his pointed stare. _Gods protect me_... she thought desperately as she tightly grasped the letter in her hand and started towards the doomed household.

* * *

A sharp series of knocks sounded upon the rough pinewood door, and the middle-aged shepherd looked up warily from his simple meal, hands trembling. He continued to stare anxiously at the door until another knock rang out through the small homestead, and he heard his wife gasp quietly nearby, her knitting falling to the floor with a soft thud. "Is it him?" she asked, voice hushed with terror.

He motioned for her to remain silent, stomach souring and nervous sweat beginning to dot his brow as he stood from the simple split-wood table and approached the door. _Lord Raphael...his guards must finally have come._ Taking a deep, shaky breath, he pulled the door open with unsteady hands.

A small-framed and expressionless young woman stood alone before him. She raised strangely dark eyes to meet his, and he felt a slight chill down his spine. "Can I help you, young lady?" he managed to ask in a companionable tone.

The young woman wordlessly handed him a sealed envelope, then lowered her eyes once more. The shepherd felt a stirring of dread as he observed the fine parchment, clearly official business, and began to cast hesitant eyes over the carefully-printed words before him. He was not an educated man, not given to scholarly pursuits and barely literate, but even he understood the meaning of the letter he held in his hands, and his face turned pale as death as he turned his eyes back to the girl in front of him.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..." Cassandra's faint whisper was barely audible even in the quiet darkness, and she unsheathed her sword.

* * *

Raphael's lips curled into a dark smile as tortured screams and desperate pleas split the still air of night. His girl, his beautifully wicked girl, was currently stationed within that wretched hovel, raising her sword to bring swift judgment upon those who defied him...it was nearly enough to warm his heart. _Soon enough, my dear,_ he thought admiringly, _you'll develop a thirst for this—if you haven't already._

The screams became quiet whimpers, and Raphael plucked a rich-red blossom from a nearby rosebush, twirling it absently in one gloved hand as he awaited his beautiful messenger's return.

When the night stood silent once more, tortured screams having died away completely, he cast his eyes towards the shepherd's home and watched as the door was flung open. Cassandra strode towards him, hot tears rushing down her cheeks, sword bloodied in its scabbard. Anger, hatred, horror dove and swam before her eyes, painfully raw, filling her mind and overwhelming her senses until all she could do was raised clenched fists to strike out against her captor, landing blow after blow upon his broad chest.

"I hate you," she cried, teeth grit through anger even as her tears continued to fall. "How could you do that? How could you make _me_ do that? _How could you?_" Anger continued to rush through her blood, powerful, painful, but mingling now with confusion, with horror and revulsion.

For a part of her—and how big or small she could not tell, would not, couldn't bear to think on it—had taken such delight in the torture, had watched with wide, maddened, appreciative eyes as she spilled blood, had nearly reveled in the pain inflicted on the innocent shepherd. And when he'd cried, when his eyes had filled with tears and his voice, weak with agony, had rung out, begging for mercy, she'd thought of his insolence, of his rebellion, and she'd fought even harder to bring him under her heel, to make him _see his place_.

And she'd enjoyed it. She'd enjoyed nearly every moment of it, and now, with cold midnight air upon her skin, she shivered at the memories—that she could inflict such pain...that she could _delight_ in it... Bile rose to the back of her throat, tears flowing freely, as her fists continued to connect harshly with Raphael's chest, desperate to bruise, to punish...to strike out at him with every ounce of raw anger and hatred she felt for herself.

Raphael watched dispassionately as she struck him, finally heaving a sigh and grasping her wrists, restraining her even as she still fought against him. "Enough," he stated firmly. His eyes strayed to the bustle of activity in the distance, villagers beginning to congregate in the town square "Stay your anger for now, my love; the execution is about to commence."

A ring of torches cast an orange glow upon a hastily-constructed platform in the middle of the square. Several of Raphael's private guards stood upon its rough surface, while others dragged the cowardly guard who had fled from Ivy's presence between them. One of the guards gave the disgraced man a hard shove, and he fell to his knees before a large, heavily-spoked wagon wheel.

Cassandra shivered slightly as she and Raphael approached the platform. The guards angrily shouted Romanian curses at the man before them, and Cassandra wrapped her arms around her slight form, wary and fearful.

"This, my dear," Raphael said easily, placing one hand upon Cassandra's shoulder as he led her up onto the platform, "is the breaking wheel."

Cassandra watched with sick dread as the guards strapped the treacherous soldier to the wheel's outer rim, his limbs extended and forming an 'X' over the spokes. The villagers milling below whispered amongst themselves, stirring a low din of fearful chatter and desperate prayers. Upon the platform, the condemned man spat ineffectually at his captors as the wheel began to turn with deliberate slowness. One of the guardsmen tapped a heavy stone hammer against the palm of his hand.

Smirking lightly at Cassandra, Raphael turned to address to the scattered villagefolk who now watched the events before them unfolding, horror and sick interest intertwined in their widened eyes. "This..." Raphael began, pausing dramatically, "..._this_ is what happens to those who abandon their posts. For God does so hate a coward...as do I." He held up one richly-gloved hand, and the guards silently awaited his signal.

Raphael turned back to Cassandra, and she felt her shoulders quake slightly at the dark delight in his reddened eyes. "I want you to watch this, my dear," he said simply, the hand upon her shoulder tightening even as her trembling increased. "This is how traitors and thieves are punished in France."

He lowered his hand swiftly, sharply, and the nearby guard swung his hammer in a wide arc, landing with a sharp crack upon the man's left leg, whitened bone protruding from bruised, bloody flesh. His tortured screams tore through the night, raw with agony and helplessness, and Cassandra shut her eyes and turned her head desperately from the scene.

"No, no, my love," Raphael said silkily, gripping her chin with his free hand and forcing her gaze back to the execution. "Watch."

A beat, then another sickening crack, another set of agonized screams. Cassandra felt her stomach twist and turn as the torture continued, fighting the urge to tear herself from Raphael's grasp and run desperately into the night, away from the horrors unfolding before her helpless eyes...and yet deep within her a dark desire stirred, watched richly red blood flow from tortured wounds and fairly hummed with excitement, whispered a longing attraction to the darkness and made her own fingers itch to swing the hammer against fragile bone.

"I can't..." Cassandra started weakly, struggling against Raphael's grip, but he stood firm.

"In time, you will find bloodsport less disturbing, my dear," he said, running a swift caress along her cheek. "You may even grow to enjoy it." When Cassandra remained quiet, failing to angrily dispute his assertions, he released her from his grasp. "Good girl."

Another sickening crack accompanied by another weakened scream resounded, and Raphael smiled slightly. "Now, pet," he began, turning to Cassandra, "the human body is remarkably resilient—this man can live through days of this torture before he finally succumbs to his wounds. I do believe, however, that I should grow tired of hearing his screams from the castle after a few hours' time, so I'll allow you to choose his fate. Tell me, Cassandra: a _coups de grâce_ or _retentum_?"

"I don't even know what either of those mean," Cassandra said helplessly, unable to tear her eyes away from the broken guard before her.

"Just choose one, love."

She shivered slightly, weighing the options in her head, calling upon her meager knowledge of French and finding no convenient hint, no insight. Finally, shutting her eyes tightly, she spoke. "_Retentum_."

Her eyes shot open as Raphael's cruel laugh reached her ears. "Ah, there is hope for you yet, insolent girl," he said admiringly. He waved carelessly at the guards, and one swiftly moved to wrap his hands around the traitor's throat until the man's eyes bulged and he fell into unconsciousness. "He'll be raised atop a pole now," Raphael said matter-of-factly, "and left in solitude for a span of several days. If his luck holds, his death shall come from nearby birds of prey rather than slow starvation."

Cassandra heard his words only distantly as she continued to stare numbly at the scene before her, eyes blank, too overwhelmed to betray any emotion. The scent of blood filled the air, richly metallic, overpowering—blood from the condemned man streaming along the platform, blood from the innocent shepherd still staining her hands.

_What's wrong with me?_ she thought desperately, fighting back a cry. _Why am I doing this? Am I really a servant to that sword? To __**him**__?_

"Cassandra."

She turned her head weakly as Raphael called her name. "Cassandra," he repeated in a patient voice, "my dear. These villagers must learn to fear you as they fear me. You've made great strides towards this purpose tonight, I must say—I've no doubt that the fate of the insolent shepherd has already begun to spread to the other villagers, and they will come to fear the wrath of your sword. Well done, pet."

He placed a hand upon her shoulder that Cassandra swiftly rebuffed with a cold glare.

"I see that continues to be a problem," Raphael observed, tone turning dark and pointed. "I've spoken to you of the repercussions for your continued disobedience, love—I've no doubt that—"

His words came to a sharp and sudden halt as a searing pain rushed through his chest. A strangled cry tore from his lips, and Cassandra could only stare in abject horror at the jagged crystal shard now protruding from his chest, razored edges dripping thickly with cursed blood. "This... " Raphael started, reaching one hand weakly towards the wound before collapsing at Cassandra's feet.

Behind him stood a young man, eyes narrowed with purpose and dark hatred, arm outstretched and stained with fresh blood.

White-hot rage rushed swiftly through Cassandra's veins at the sight of Raphael lying prone before the young man, grievously wounded and unconscious, blood seeping thickly across his chest. Her mind had been reduced to all but the basest need to destroy, to avenge, and an inhuman growl burst forth from her lips as she drew her sword. Her movements never faltered, never wavered as she swiftly whipped around and deeply slashed the young man across the neck. Her eyes watched dispassionately as the blade sliced easily through his jugular and trachea, a clean line from one end of his jaw to the other. A wet, gurgling choke exited his throat along with spurting blood as he fell forward, the vivid red spray glancing across Cassandra's face, painting her lips, until the man lay at her feet, silent in death.

An overpowering shiver rushed through her, and Cassandra's eyes refocused as she awoke from a blood-drenched haze, staring in horror at the man before her, at the blood upon her hands. _What have I done?_ she thought desperately. _My gods, what have I done?_ She staggered back a step on unsteady feet, reaching a hand towards the young man, when suddenly she remembered... _Raphael!_

She turned back to him desperately, resting one bloody hand against his throat and feeling a wave of relief wash over her at the feel of his pulse weakly fluttering beneath his fingers. "Stay with me," she said through tears she hadn't even realized had begun to form, and, placing one of his muscular arms around her shoulders, began to drag him back to the town limits as swiftly as she was able.

Cassandra reached the carriage in record time, muscles aching with exertion even as the horrified driver helped her lift Raphael through the narrow door. She'd scarcely entered behind him before the driver's sharp voice sounded in her ears and the horses broke into a gallop.

As the carriage moved swiftly along the darkened forest paths, Cassandra laid Raphael's head upon her lap, softly running her fingers through his hair and whispering absent words of comfort. The scent of blood was thick in the confined space, _cursed blood with that of innocent_s, and Cassandra suppressed a shudder.

_What have I become?_ she thought faintly, running the tip of her tongue across her bloodied lips, eyes falling shut against the rich, coppery taste, so tempting, so intoxicating... Darkness stirred once more within as her heart began to race with desire, for more, for the longing to drink, _drink deeply_...

_No,_ Cassandra thought with a sharp shake of her head. She cast her eyes down at the bleeding man on her lap and fought the urge to press a hand to his cheek. "That's not important right now," she said, voice wavering slightly. "All I care about is keeping you alive."

Even as the words fell from her lips, even as she once more twined her fingers in his hair and helplessly tried to comfort him, her mind was awash with confusion and doubt. Nothing made sense anymore—why did she care if he lived? Why had she fought so desperately to save him, shed tears for him? Why had she brutally murdered that young man?

The night remained silent and still, and offered no answers. Cassandra cast her troubled gaze through the windows, holding Raphael tightly as the carriage moved swiftly home.

* * *

A/N: My husband really helped me out with this chapter. He helped me research old French execution styles and helped conjure the image of the boy's slit throat, or as hubby likes to call it... Pez dispenser cut. Wow, I'll totally never eat those again. I apologize if this chapter was a little sick, but I don't write vampire like creatures to be all Anne Ricey. There has to be a darkness that is sick and twisted, they are, after all monsters. And thats what I wanted to portray in this chapter, monsters performing the danse macabre. So at least I gave you guys a warning right? **Sigh I'm probably going to lose some readers after this.** But hey, look, promising signs of shippyness coming soon... see I didn't forget it was a ship fic.


	7. Chapter 7: The Misery

**Title:** The Pitfalls of Madness

**Chapter 7:** The Misery

**Author:** Alicia "Kamitose" Guy

**Summary:** After receiving a message from another swords girl to beware of Raphael, Cassandra seeks him out to settle the score once and for all, but is she truly prepared for what she is about to face?

**Rating:** R, for strong language, violence, and possible sexual situations.

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters in this piece of fiction belong to me. They belong to Namco. Dronia Fairborough belongs to me (don't worry, she is but a very bit part, I don't even pair her up with anyone. She is not a Mary Sue.)

**Distribution:** As long as I am credited, and as long as you ask (and let me know once it's posted) then I don't care where it's distributed. BUT you have to ask.

**Author's Note: **This is my first ever Soul Calibur fanfiction. This site is severely lacking in Cassandra/Raphael fanfiction and I would like to help remedy that.

**SPECIAL THANKS TO ANYSIA FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA READER!**

* * *

The castle loomed dark and silent as the carriage came to a sudden stop at the main gates. The driver came round to the side door somewhat breathlessly, tugging it open and gingerly receiving Raphael's pale, bloodied form from a still slightly dazed Cassandra. "We need to get him inside," she said quietly, climbing from the carriage and helping the driver to lift the nobleman's unconscious form and carry him carefully into the nearby great hall. A throng of servants stood waiting as they entered through the broad oak doors, talking quietly amongst themselves, fear and anger warring even as several cried out at the sight of their wounded master.

"My God…" a stalwart, middle-aged maid began, pressing a hand to her ample chest. "Who did this?"

Cassandra stared at the servants hazily, still somehow numb and distant. "A young man in the village," she began softly. "He's…he's been taken care of."

She bit her lip as she cast her eyes downward to observe the jagged crystal shard embedded in Raphael's flesh, all blue-tinged glass that still glowed faintly as it fought against cursed blood. _That's a holy stone_, she realized, fear and horror dawning upon her as she reached to pull it from his chest, only to feel a jolt of searing pain lance through her fingertips as they brushed the cool crystalline surface. Cassandra stared at the shard in shock for a long moment, eyes wide with disbelief, until the severity of the situation came once more to the forefront of her mind, and she swiftly set aside her own fears and misgivings.

"I need someone to remove that shard, _now_," Cassandra instructed the servants through grit teeth. "But be careful!" A maid and two stewards bowed swiftly and began to extract the crystal shard with excruciating slowness, until the full length of it had been removed and lay darkly-stained with blood on the floor beside them. The scent of blood hung thickly in the air, and the servants fought to close the gaping wound as their master continued to lay silent and still before them.

Cassandra watched the scene before her numbly, absently flexing her fingers, stiffened now by a coat of drying blood. Countless thoughts swam through her mind, countless emotions, until a flash of red appeared at the corner of her eye and she turned to see Amy standing at the threshold to the room, a look of horror upon her normally expressionless face.

"_Papa_," she gasped, rushing to her father's side and kneeling before him, oblivious to the blood surrounding him. "Papa, please be okay!" She pressed her forehead to the wound upon his chest and felt a desperate cry welling up within her.

Cassandra reached out to run a comforting hand through Amy's hair. "I'm sorry," she began, voice little more than a whisper. "Amy, I'm so sorry."

The girl raised cursed red eyes to meet hers, and Cassandra took a step back. "You're _sorry_?" Amy repeated, voice tight with disbelief and fury. "You did this to him! You're the one who hurt him!" She stood up, a smear of blood upon her cheek, and pointed accusingly at Cassandra. "This never would have happened if you hadn't come! I hate you! _I hate you!_" Amy turned on her heel and ran from the room, eyes brimming with angry tears.

"The young mistress is just upset," a maid offered hesitantly after a long moment. Cassandra nodded distractedly and waved her off, watching as the servants finally finished their makeshift dressing of Raphael's wound.

"We'll need to take him to the infirmary for proper treatment," one of the stewards informed her before helping his companions lift Raphael's unconscious form.

"Of course." Cassandra attempted a small smile, but tension remained thick in her blood, and she finally slumped her shoulders in defeat before turning to the remaining servants. "Do you…do you think I could be alone for a moment? I appreciate your concern, but…I just need…"

"Say no more, Lady Alexandra," the stalwart maid said comfortingly. "If you have need of us at a later time, please call upon us." Cassandra nodded absently as the servants then swiftly dispersed, the heavy oak doors settling with a dull thud behind them.

The hall was suddenly, profoundly silent, and Cassandra was left with only her thoughts.

"I'm sorry," she repeated quietly, eyes moving slowly over the stonework of the great hall before coming to rest, finally, guiltily, upon the small pool of blood where Raphael had lain.

A dull throb pulsed through her throat then, strangely irritating. Cassandra ran her fingers absently over the still-healing wound Raphael had inflicted upon her, still gazing distantly at the blood before her and faintly, faintly recalling the taste of the village boy's upon her lips, sweetly metallic, and she realized that she _wanted_…

_My gods, what's happening to me?_ Cassandra thought desperately, dried blood taut upon her hands as she balled them into tight fists. _This isn't right…it's not natural…it's not __**human**__…_

But she wanted it. By the gods, she _wanted_ it. Cassandra knelt carefully upon the floor and reached out one trembling hand, dipping her fingertips into the sanguine liquid before bringing them to her lips with a fearful quiver. Slowly, very slowly, she began to lick the blood from her fingers, a strange lust beginning to burn within her as a pleasurable shiver coursed down her spine. Her eyes fell closed as the taste lingered sweetly, tongue still moving over pure pale fingertips for any remaining traces.

_More…I want more…_

Desire coursed swiftly through her veins, desperate and unyielding. More—she needed _more_, and she fell to the ground, bracing her weight upon her wrists and leaning to lap up the rich red blood upon the stone floor, drinking deeply, sweet copper and iron upon her tongue. She was frenzied, caring for nothing but the blood before her, craving more deeply than she had ever felt, her mind reduced to a reddened haze whose focus was to drink, to partake, to sate her desperate needs.

"_What are you doing?"_

A soft yet painfully familiar voice whispered through the silent hall, and Cassandra awoke sharply from her bloodlust, eyes wide with horror and fear as blood dripped down her chin. She turned, glancing desperately around the room, but she stood alone, bloodied clothes stark against milk-pale skin.

"_Cassandra..._" the whispered voice began, and Cassandra jumped as Sophitia materialized before her, pale as death, blood seeping from a horrific wound upon her throat, trickling down until it ran red upon the cold stone floor, mixing with his cursed blood.

"_Why must I die every night?_" the specter asked angrily, reaching with one pale, bloody hand to grasp Cassandra by the throat and hoist her into the air. Cassandra let out a choked whimper as her nails scrabbled against her sister's wrist, feet kicking helplessly, her lungs protesting from a lack of oxygen, eyes rolling back as she fought to maintain consciousness. Sophitia's dead eyes burned a fiery red, blood continuing to seep from her wound. "_Why are you a monster?_" she asked in a detached, haunted voice that seemed to echo eerily throughout the hall.

_So-sophitia! Stop this!_ Cassandra thought desperately. She could feel her life slipping away, her vision blurring as she fought—

And then, as soon as it started, the vision was gone. Cassandra fell heavily onto the floor, her head swimming and throat raw as she lay in a collapsed heap upon cold stone. Her eyes darted fearfully around the hall, but it was once more silent and calm, and she was alone. _Just a vision_, she thought, suppressing a shudder and pressing one hand to her throat as her ragged breathing began to normalize. Horror dawned over her as she remembered her actions before her sister's specter appeared before her, and Cassandra raised one trembling hand to wipe the blood from her chin. Revulsion spread swiftly through her as she remembered, remembered kneeling like a wretched _dog_ and drinking deeply of _his blood_… Her hands flew to her mouth as she fought to suppress a pained cry. _It's all right,_ she thought, slightly panicked. _It's all right_…

But the taste still lingered upon her tongue, sweetly tempting, and horror dawned anew within her.

After a few minutes, Cassandra stood upon shaky legs and wrapped her arms around her small form. She was tired, she was scared...but worst of all, she felt completely and utterly helpless, and that feeling alone was nearly cause enough alone to send her to tears. Fighting back the urge to burst into heavy sobs, Cassandra slowly made her way to her quarters, stripping quickly out of her ruined clothing. The water in the basin at her bedside soon turned cloudy and red as she attempted to wash her bloodied hands and face, the cold temperature of the water a welcome jolt.

Later, as she passed a wet wide-toothed comb through her tangled hair, she gazed at her reflection in the luxurious glass mirror before her, noting the disquieting darkness that seemed to have seeped into her normally bright-green eyes; there was a distance to them now, a lifelessness that seemed to reflect the weariness she'd felt throughout her body since she first entered this cursed place. Another shiver down her spine, and she knew that somehow, her continued exposure to it, to _him_, had changed her, and she was frightened, until she remembered…

_The holy stone_, she thought suddenly. The holy stone! Used to purify evil, to ward off demons and wicked spirits…perhaps it could reverse the changes she'd suffered as well. It seemed unlikely, perhaps even impossible, but she'd found a thin thread of hope and soon clung as desperately to it as a drowning man to a line. After washing the remaining blood from her arms and hands, she began to search through her dresser for her traveling clothes.

Cassandra first stumbled across a white outfit, perfectly pure and neatly-starched, that seemed the antithesis of her current mood. It was followed into the discard pile in short order by an assortment of bright colors and rich patterns, slender tops and skirts, and Cassandra felt her lip curl in disdain. _I don't know why I'm being so picky_, she groused, until her hand brushed across a fold of dark material folded deeply within the dresser. Raising a curious eyebrow, she reached in and retrieved a dark black jacket and a pair of fitted black pants. She held them up before her and, after casting a critical eye over the ensemble, smiled faintly. _Perfect._

Once she had dressed, observing with a note of satisfaction the wonderful fit of the clothing, Cassandra slung her cloak around her shoulders and, with a slight shrug, fastened it with the silvered broach Raphael had given her several days earlier. Tugging her leather boots onto her feet, she stepped out into the hall and, moving quietly, made her way to the armory.

Her weapons lay by the forge, still battle-scared and unusable. Another sword and shield lay half-forged beside them, and Cassandra stared at them curiously before turning her attention to the broad walls of the armory, stretching high and fairly covered with an array of swords, knives, pikes, halberds, and weapons she couldn't name with any degree if certainty. Chewing thoughtfully at her lower lip for a moment, Cassandra finally reached up and grasped a wicked, black-bladed kris in her hand, turning it over and watching as the torchlight reflected over the obsidian surface. _This should work,_ she thought—intimidation would likely be key if she were to obtain the knowledge she sought, and the blade in her hand would no doubt serve that purpose. Cassandra tucked the small sword into her belt and left the armory, shutting the doors softly behind her.

_To the village, now._ The boy who had attacked them had been in possession of a shard of the holy stone—perhaps there were more to be found in the mountain village. Perhaps she could use its innate purity to heal the damage this wicked place had inflicted upon her… But her thoughts of the village soon grew sour, and Cassandra found anger rising up in her belly as she thought of the villagers, wretched, terrified, of the pained, shocked look in Raphael's eyes as her gazed dumbly at the crystalline shard protruding from his chest, and she started as she realized that she wanted to know where it came from, where the boy had gotten it—why he had acted so.

Disconcerting thoughts, and Cassandra absently toyed with the hilt of the kris at her belt as she made her way to the gates. Why did she care what the boy's motivations were, where he'd obtained a holy stone and why he'd plunged it into Raphael's chest? For that matter, why did she continue to worry for him, to feel fear and pain rush through her as she thought of his wounds? Why had she held him in her arms as they rushed swiftly back to the castle?

She wasn't sure what curse he'd placed upon her body, but she was beginning to suspect he'd worked some dark spell upon her mind as well.

* * *

The night was silent and dark as Cassandra strode across the sweeping castle grounds and entered the stables. The carriage stood outside the wooden structure, a pair of horses munching contentedly at a large bale of hay beside it. The carriage driver, clothes still lightly stained with blood, eyed Cassandra warily as she came up to him, her eyes glinting with purpose and determination. "Take me to the village," she said shortly, voice darkly commanding.

The driver stared at her for a long moment, faintly recognizing the tone as strangely reminiscent of the master's, before speaking. "I'm sorry, Lady Alexandra," he began, attempting an apologetic voice. "I'm afraid I'm under strict orders to ensure that you stay here within the castle."

The driver felt a slight shiver down his spine as Cassandra narrowed her eyes darkly at him. "Fine," she said in a deceptively cheerful tone. "I wouldn't want you to disobey orders."

"Thank you for understanding, Lady Alexandra," he said uneasily. "Good evening to you."

Cassandra smiled noncommittally and started off towards the castle, casting furtive glances over her shoulder until the driver finally turned back to his horses, absently scratching one behind the ears. A window of opportunity opened, Cassandra moved swiftly around the side of the stables and slipped inside the structure, the smell of horses and warm hay quickly filling her nostrils. She moved quietly from stall to stall, examining a pair of geldings, a towering, fairly ill-tempered stallion, and a quiet young filly before coming across a midnight-black mare, coat glossy in the torchlight, eyes shiny and inquisitive, already tacked.

Cassandra smiled slightly and reached out one hand to affectionately scratch the mare's neck. "You'll do nicely."

* * *

The driver rested wearily against the carriage, his head bowed and arms crossed irritably as he cast a glance towards the stained interior. It would no doubt take untold hours of scrubbing to remove the quickly-setting bloodstains upon the rich upholstery—assuming it could be done. He frowned deeply as he thought of the unpleasant task of asking the cleaning ladies for their expertise, but better their wrath than Lord Raphael's when he discovered that his prized carriage had been damaged.

The sound of thundering hooves and a high whinny jolted him from his thoughts, and he turned disbelieving eyes towards the fields to see Cassandra astride Raphael's most prized mare and rushing swiftly past the stable gates. He watched her retreating form for a moment, fear seizing him as he imagined her to be the horseman of death riding to herald the Day of Judgment. Stumbling slightly over his own feet, he ran quickly towards the gate keep to alert the guards.

* * *

Cassandra flew as if the hellhounds of Hades nipped at her heels, her black cloak billowing behind her. She rode the mare hard, digging in her heels and leaning forward in the saddle until they finally arrived outside the village parameter. The night was silent and dark as she dismounted, patting the horse's flank before tying her securely to a broad oak. Eyes dark with determination and a hint of anger, Cassandra set her jaw and entered the village.

The streets were quiet, only a smattering of people still milling about, given the late hour, but those who had remained after the execution looked fearfully to her and swiftly gave way when she approached.

"One of Death's agents," one whispered, "come to claim an unfortunate soul."

"The young woman with the wretched lord, wasn't she?"

"Look at those eyes—I'd bet you anything she's one of the _strigoi_. Best move inside tonight, lads, keep an eye on the livestock and womenfolk."

Cassandra ignored their swift Romanian chatter, gazing around at the few brave souls who still gathered outside, finally coming to rest upon a stocky middle-aged man, all beady eyes and wispy white hair. He stared back at her, hatred and anger burning in his gaze.

Ignoring his baleful stare, Cassandra strode over to him, eyes dark and determined, never breaking contact with his, and shot her hand out to firmly grasp the collar of his grubby tunic.

"You were there when Raphael was attacked," she said emotionlessly. The man continued to stare at her in stubborn silence, even as she shook him once, twice, hard. "Silent type. I see. Let's take this conversation elsewhere, shall we?"

Cassandra tugged sharply on the man's shirt and dragged him into a nearby shadowed alley between two squalid homes. She pushed him ahead of her before swiftly moving to press the glinting obsidian blade at her belt to his throat, a scowl overtaking her features as she felt him tremble beneath her restraining hand. "Now listen carefully," she began, voice low and dark, "because I'm only going to ask once. Who gave that boy a holy stone?"

The man swallowed hard, a strong shiver running down his spine as he struggled to answer. "_Strigoi,_" he said finally in a hushed voice that became a choked intake of breath as Cassandra pressed her blade more firmly to his throat.

"I keep hearing that word," she said irritably, "and it means nothing to me. What in Hades is a _strigoi_?" The man began to speak quickly in Romanian, and Cassandra sighed in frustration. "Of course—you don't speak Greek. I've gotten so used to speaking to the maids in Greek, even if they only speak a little…I keep forgetting that you peasants don't speak it." She narrowed her eyes. "No matter."

Cassandra grit her teeth and tightened her grip upon the wicked _kris_. "But maybe I need someone to talk to," she began, voice tight with anger. "Maybe I want to be able to talk to someone about what's happening, what's happening to _me_." She felt the stirrings of tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and she twisted the man's arm back slightly.

"Do you know what it's like," she said, anger now threading with desperation in her tone, "having visions of your dead sister plague you when you sleep, even as you wake? Do you know what that does to a person?" Her voice was uneven, a breadth of suppressed emotion threatening to finally spill over her weakened defenses. "I left home knowing full well that she was alive," she continued, a tear slipping down her cheek, "and now…now I don't even _know_. Are these visions trying to show me something? Is my sister dead? Or are they telling me that _I'm_ going to kill her? Do you know? _Do you_?"

The man struggled in her grasp, shouting fearfully in Romanian. There was something in the way she spoke that was threatening, even if her words were incomprehensible. A note of madness was evident within her tone, and this, more than anything else, frightened him. The man cast his eyes towards the heavens before shutting them tightly and beginning to whisper the Prayer of the Heart, begging God for mercy.

Cassandra stared at him for a long moment as he continued his desperate chant, and she started slightly as she recognized the posture, the piousness of his tone. "What are you doing?" she asked in disbelief. "Are you praying?" Cassandra failed to suppress a short laugh, half-crazed and disdainful. "A lot of good that'll do you," she said, still laughing, crying, utterly coming apart.

"Go on and pray!" Cassandra shouted through her tears. "See if your god answers! I've prayed to the gods every second of every day since I came here, prayed for them to save me, to take me out of this miserable place. But I'm still here, aren't I? After everything my family has done for them, everything we've _suffered_ for, they abandon me." She tugged sharply on the man's shirt before leaning to speak into his ear. "My sister was a chosen one. Chosen by the gods. She fought for them, heeded their words, did everything they asked of her…and it nearly _killed_ her. There's your sympathy!" she shouted, voice breaking on a sob. "There's your thanks! There's your _caring god_! So pray, goddammit, pray to your useless god! He won't listen to you, he won't so much as blink if I strike you dead right here, and do you want to know _why_? Because the gods don't care! They don't _care_!"

Cassandra felt her whole body quake, from overwhelming emotion, from taxing herself so, but also from the sudden, cold realization: the Gods didn't care. They didn't care now, and they very likely never had. She'd been hurt, scared, left alone with a madman who likely wished her dead, and still she'd prayed, prayed desperately for divine aid that had never arrived, not when the gods cared only for themselves, for their pride.

_If they don't care_, she thought desperately, angrily, _if it doesn't matter what I do, they won't intervene one way or another. It doesn't matter._

Cassandra raised her eyes to the heavens, to a dark sky mottled with gathering storm clouds, and a dark scowl appeared upon her features. "You don't control me anymore!" she shouted through angry tears. "I'm finished with you! I won't be your pawn, you hear me? I won't play your games! _I won't_!"

The clouds grew darker as if in response, a sharp thunderclap splitting the still night air.

Cassandra's tears rushed down her cheeks, but still she turned hateful eyes to the sky. "So this is how it must be." She felt warm liquid run across the fingers gripping her blade and scented the metallic odor of spilt blood. The man squirmed helplessly against her grip but only succeeded in driving the wicked blade more deeply into his flesh. "I suppose there are worse things," Cassandra whispered darkly, the familiar stirrings of hunger and madness beginning to overtake her. "After all…I could be you."

The man let out a piercing scream that quickly faded into a pained whimper as Cassandra swiftly ducked her head and began to drink from his wound, teeth embedded in his flesh, blood pooling around her lips and rushing down her throat, deliciously sweet, unbearably sweet, and she drank greedily of it even as the man tried to wrest himself from her grasp. Eventually, he became pale and drawn as she gripped him tightly, finally going limp in her arms and falling to the ground in a crumpled heap.

Cassandra observed his lifeless form with dispassionate eyes, absently wiping a smear of blood from her mouth. A sharp cry sounded behind her, and she turned to see a few villagers staring into the alleyway, eyes wide in abject horror.

A wicked smile crossed Cassandra's features, and she crossed her arms easily across her chest. "Now," she said, "who's next?"

Amusement and madness glinted from within blood-red eyes.

* * *

Raphael awoke slowly, still firmly entrenched in the liminal space between sleep and wakefulness. A surge of pain lanced through his entire body as he attempted to sit up, and he bit back a loud curse as he fell back against the pillows. _Wretched peasants_, he thought angrily. He'd see them drawn and quartered for daring to stand against him so.

…_but perhaps that won't be necessary_. He felt a dark smile appear at the corners of his lips as he distantly remembered Cassandra shielding his wounded form, standing fiercely before his assailant, sword at the ready as she prepared to defend him, to save him from those who would strike him down. _My lovely girl…there may be hope for you yet_.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp, frantic rapping upon the doors to his quarters. "What on earth do you want?" Raphael asked, clearly annoyed.

A voice sounded from the other side of the door, high and rushed with a sense of urgency. "Lord Raphael!" the voice cried. "Please, it is an emergency!"

Raphael sighed irritably and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Then you had best come in here and tell me what it is," he said. "I'm not known for my patience."

The door opened with sharply, crashing into the wall, and the leader of Raphael's private guards entered, bowing quickly before speaking. "My lord," the man began in a rush, "the Lady Alexandra has fled the castle on your most prized mare!"

Raphael bolted upright in bed, cursing loudly at the white-hot pain shooting through his protesting body. "How could you imbeciles have let her escape? Where was she headed?" he asked angrily, gritting his teeth against fury and pain.

The guard stood steady despite his master's anger. "The horseman said she had demanded he take her to the village. She was armed."

Raphael stroked his chin absently, frowning slightly at the day-old stubble. Perhaps she hadn't run away after all. Perhaps she'd merely… A look of dread concern crossed his refined features. _No, she couldn't possibly…_

With no small amount of effort, Raphael pushed back the covers and pulled himself to his feet. "Send my best guards to the village," he instructed the guard in a low voice.

"Your best? How many, my lord?"

Raphael looked to him, eyes dark and firmly set. "All of them."

* * *

A small troop of guardsmen arrived in the village, weapons drawn and at the ready, only to find bodies carelessly strewn about in the streets, bloodied. A sharp scream radiated from the town center and they rushed in, brandishing swords and halberds, only to find Cassandra standing beside the executioner's platform, lips reddened with blood. Another body lay crumpled at her feet.

"What is man, do you think?" she asked suddenly, staring at her bloodied hands, refusing to address the guards directly. "Really, where do we draw the line between man and beast? And what happens when that line blurs?" Her breathing was ragged, shoulders heaving slightly with exhaustion, but still she spoke. "When a beloved pet grows feral, we strike it down. When a man commits heinous crimes, we execute him. What's the difference?"

Cassandra finally turned blood-red eyes to the soldiers, confusion and anguish playing across her features as blood dripped down her chin. "Why am I a monster?" she asked, voice barely a whisper. "Why am I like him?" She turned blood-red eyes to the soldiers, watched dispassionately as they fearfully raised their weapons. "Why do I give into these urges? Why do I _let_ myself give into them?"

She stopped suddenly, one hand pressed against the still-healing wound Raphael had dealt her, pain suddenly shooting through it, and she fell to her knees. "Why is this happening to me?" she asked in a broken voice. A scream rose to her throat as a cavalcade of voices tore suddenly through her nearly-broken mind, shouting, crying, whispering dark words alongside her name. _Malcontent…_

Cassandra protectively wrapped her arms around herself, nearly screaming as sharp pain overtook her body, her limbs, her face, even her _teeth_, aching fiercely. Her eyes burned and she tugged desperately at her hair as her body shook terribly. "What…what has he done to me?" she cried, before shuddering once and collapsing.

* * *

A/N: That is the end of Chapter 7. This was officially the hardest chapter ever! OMG! I hated writing this chapter. It was made of evil and tears. Anywho, thanks to my friend David and of course Anysia for helping me figure out how to fix my problem with this chapter. And the damn formatting got fucked up. Gah! Stupid word program


	8. Chapter 8: The Moribund

**Title:** The Pitfalls of Madness

**Chapter 8:** The Moribund

**Author:** Alicia "Kamitose" Guy

**Summary:** After receiving a message from another swords girl to beware of Raphael, Cassandra seeks him out to settle the score once and for all, but is she truly prepared for what she is about to face?

**Rating:** R, for strong language, violence, and possible sexual situations.

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters in this piece of fiction belong to me. They belong to Namco. Dronia Fairborough belongs to me (don't worry, she is but a very bit part, I don't even pair her up with anyone. She is not a Mary Sue.)

**Distribution:** As long as I am credited, and as long as you ask (and let me know once it's posted) then I don't care where it's distributed. BUT you have to ask.

**Author's Note: **This is my first ever Soul Calibur fanfiction. This site is severely lacking in Cassandra/Raphael fanfiction and I would like to help remedy that.

**SPECIAL THANKS TO ANYSIA FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA READER!**

* * *

"_I have a mark on me, like a brand on my skin, that only I can see;_

_I don't know what it means, I get caught up in dreams, I feel like running away."_

_The Mark Black Light Burns_

* * *

He never should have even gotten out of bed. That much became abundantly clear as Raphael made his way down the silent stone corridors, his body fairly screaming with pain and keen exhaustion from the effort. But his pet project had clearly gotten out of hand—and despite the aches and protests of his injured body, he had little choice but to remind her of the rules…forcefully, if need be.

Fingers absently running over the rich silk sash of his tailored dressing gown, Raphael slowly descended the dimly-lit staircase leading to the depths of the castle dungeons, his slightly unsteady form flanked by two attentive manservants. The dungeon corridors were empty, dark silence broken only by the faint echo of dripping rainwater and Raphael's staccato footsteps against the cold flagstones. After a moment, he came to a long row of iron-barred cells, rusted and moss-grown from disuse. A finely-crafted dining chair stood before the farthest cell, and Raphael sat heavily upon the dark-wood surface, grimacing slightly as a twinge of pain shot through his ribs. He turned his reddened eyes to the dark, shadowy interior of the cell, where Cassandra, small and quiet, lay tightly chained and shackled to the wall, blond hair silvered in a ray of moonlight.

"Wake her," Raphael spoke simply to his manservants, leaning back in his chair. Nodding quickly to their master, the men retreated swiftly, only to return a moment later with a stout wooden bucket filled to the brim with cold pondwater. They heaved and quickly splashed Cassandra's sleeping form with its full contents, stepping back to stand behind their master as Cassandra awoke sharply, spluttering and shaking from the effects of the frigid water. Biting back an oath, she turned her eyes, burning-red even in low light, to Raphael, feeling her body fairly surge with a strange rush of darkness, hunger and hatred warring in her mind, rushing through her veins. Hunger, desire, _power_…strange feelings, intoxicating, overwhelming…

It was too much, all of it, and Cassandra finally shut her eyes tightly and rested her head back against the mossy stone wall, willing the overwhelming torrent of emotion to fade. Hunger, desire, power…and something else, something terrifying, that she couldn't name…didn't _want_ to name.

_Madness…_

Suppressing a long, harsh shudder, Cassandra opened her eyes once more and peered into the darkness, faintly recognizing the outline of iron bars and roughly-hewn stonework. _A cell?_ she thought distantly, once more looking to Raphael beyond her captivity. "What in Hades…" she began, but Raphael's harsh voice interrupted her query.

"Have you any idea," Raphael said, voice tight with anger, "what you've done, you insolent creature? My mare, for starters—you _dared_ to steal off into the night with my most prized mare. You are very fortunate indeed that she has returned from your misguided adventure unscathed." He paused for a moment, allowing his threatening tone to take hold. "However," he continued, "there are possessions of mine that you have damaged—and that, my dear, is unacceptable." With a careless wave he motioned to one of his manservants, who bowed quickly and retrieved a bloody satchel from his simple robes, tossing the bag easily into the cell and at Cassandra's feet.

Sick dread coiled low in the pit of her stomach, Cassandra reached her trembling hands forward, the thick chains encircling them rattling as they moved against the stone floor, and slowly, carefully, began to loosen the strings holding the satchel closed. The richly metallic scent of blood filled her nostrils, strangely tempting, until the last of the strings had been removed and she peered cautiously into the satchel.

There, cold and silent upon the rich leather, lay a severed hand. Cassandra gaped in horror, hands trembling as she flung the satchel away from her, eyes wide and disbelieving.

"Do you know how many you killed, you insolent child?" Raphael asked then, a note of frustration entering his eternally-calm tone.

Cassandra looked to him, eyes wide and frightened like a startled fox. She remembered very little of the previous night—only flashes, brief moments, of the torture of the shepherd and his wife, of the torture of the fallen guard, of the execution…of the bloodied crystalline shard protruding from Raphael's chest, of the panic swiftly rushing through her veins as she ran to his side, throat seized with fear, watching him lay before her, horribly wounded, unconscious, tears stinging hotly at her eyes...

_I cried for him._ That she remembered keenly; she'd held in him tightly in her arms and cried, shed hot, pained tears for _him_. She'd cried for him. She'd suffered for him. Yet now he bound her with chains like a maddened feral dog, sharpened his tongue to throw cruel insults at her, and accused her of being a cold-blooded murderess. Anger and confusion warred in her mind, dizzying emotion overwhelming her until the room began to spin. With a low groan, Cassandra pressed her chained hands to her temples, trying to remember something, _anything_.

"Eight," Raphael's flat emotionless tone broke through her daze. "Eight people, Cassandra. Eight of my villagers who can no longer pay fief to me, who can no longer till the land, raise the sheep, plant the seeds, milk the cows, do the work, pay the gold. Eight of my wretched villagers killed. Are you satisfied yet? Perhaps you would like to take one of my personal servants as well?" He motioned sharply to one of his silent manservants. "Would you enjoy that, my love? Would you sink your teeth into the flesh of his throat, open the vein, drink deeply of his blood? Would that finally serve to slake your thirst, or would you still demand more?"

Cassandra felt her head swim at his words, echoing cold and harsh in the silent dungeons. Eight people? _It can't be…he…he must be lying…there's no way I could have…_ A flash in her mind, then, a vivid memory—the screams of innocent, rich red blood flowing easily through impoverished streets, _so much blood, so much_, and then she was on the floor, her head between her knees, hands grasping desperately at her hair, shivers coursing down her spine as the visions continued to dance before her eyes. "What..." she began weakly, "what have I done?"

Raphael attempted to stand but collapsed into his chair once more as his wound once more burned and ached against its thickly-salved wrappings. "You let it control you, pet," he said, unclenching his jaw as the pain slowly faded. "You let the darkness in your mind take you completely."

A sudden thought crossed his mind then, a remembered fragment of his head guard's report, and he smiled, slow and dark. "Ah…I've just recalled a rather interesting statement from one of my guards, dearest, who happened across you in the village last night. Tell me," he began, tone soft and falsely comforting, reaching out to run his fingers lightly over her cheek, "to whom will you pray now that you've denounced your gods?"

Cassandra raised her red-rimmed eyes to his, any number of vicious epithets upon her tongue, poised to strike, hands clenching into tight fists…

…but he was right. As much as she hated it…he was right.

_The gods don't care_, she remembered. _They don't __**care**__!_ Fighting back a sudden rush of stinging tears, Cassandra lowered her head, shoulders slumping in weakened defeat even as the first rays of the morning sun crept slowly over the threshold of her cell. "What will you do with me?" she asked quietly.

Raphael watched her defeated posture for a moment, frowning lightly as he spoke. "I'm afraid I can't very well kill you outright, my dear—not when so much remains to be done. I—" he paused, fighting the words even as he spoke them, "I must also…thank you. For you saving my life. It appears that there is hope for you after all."

Cassandra remained silent, staring at him with hopeless, haunted eyes.

"Despite my gratitude, however, as well as your rather remarkable progress, this... incident simply cannot be ignored. I shall confine you here for the next two days. Leave you to sit and think on what you've done." His voice softened a fraction, and he regarded her with something nearly akin to admiration. "The madness shines brightly within your eyes, my dear—beautiful, yes…but perhaps this will allow you time to regain yourself." With that, Raphael carefully stood, grimacing at the surge of pain and gripping the back of the chair tightly.

Cassandra watched him struggle, a note of concern entering her eyes, when suddenly she recalled why she had first journeyed to the valley. "The village," she began quietly. "I went to the village to find out who had tried to kill you, and why…who had brought the holy stone. I…I failed..." She lowered her head.

Raphael looked up briefly from his white-knuckled grip, features softening ever so slightly even through the pain, the faintest hint of warmth entering his eternally-cold gaze. "I know," he responded simply, staring at her slumped form, her defeated posture. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, he turned from the cells and began to make his way towards the narrow staircase.

"Two days," he repeated quietly, beginning his slow ascent and leaving Cassandra to the darkness and her own haunted thoughts.

* * *

Cassandra spent much of the day in the grasp of an uneasy, troubled sleep. Dreams came to her relentlessly, riddled with painfully-vivid images of dying villagers…those she herself had killed. Each death came slowly, frame by frame, drawn out in agonizing detail, until she finally awoke, cold sweat beaded upon her brow, tugging desperately at her chains until her wrists lay bruised and raw from her exertions. Her breathing came in short, hard pants as her eyes adjusted the cold, silent confines of the dungeons—madness seemed to have an iron grip upon her consciousness here in this darkly-shadowed place, and her visions, no longer resigning themselves strictly to dreams, now haunted even her waking hours.

Later, as the midnight hour turned, a faint scraping noise reverberated from the farthest corner of the dungeon, and Cassandra awoke from her latest nightmare with a start, peering fearfully into the darkness. Her wrists bound her tightly to the cold stone wall, but still she reached, stretching until her joints ached in protest, attempting to see farther. There, at the distant edge of the cold, silent corridor, the steel glint of a short sword shone in the moon's faint glow, the sharpened blade dragged carelessly against the wall by a silhouetted figure. In the moonlight its shadow stretched far beyond it, blackened against the brown-grey stonework, twisted, stretched, deformed, almost grotesque. Slowly, steadily, the figure drew closer, and Cassandra tensed sharply, moving farther back into the confines of her cell.

A shadowed shield materialized suddenly in the figure's free hand, its sharpened sword still scraping lightly against the wall. After a long moment, a strangely familiar voice sounded in the darkness.

"_Look at you,"_ it began, voice strangely haunted and echoing through the silent dungeons, "_chained up like some rabid beast, eyes maddened and hungry, vainly seeking a salvation that shall never come. You forsook the gods and all they stand for, drank of his honey and wine, and allowed your mind to flee from you. You are a disgrace—inhuman. You can never again return home. They will never accept you…not after what you have done. You can do naught but sit here in silence, with only your thoughts and your guilt to accompany you. But the real question is..."_

The figure stopped, finally coming into view of Cassandra's cell. There stood Sophitia, all blood and gore in the image of death herself, staring down at her younger sister. "_Why must I die every night?"_

Cassandra shrunk back into her corner, curling up tightly as she fought to escape from her sister's specter. She bit back tears as Sophitia continued to stare her down, malice and pain laced through her deadened eyes. Cassandra shut her own eyes tightly, tears streaming down her dirt-smudged cheeks "You're not here!" she shouted desperately, voice breaking on a sob. "Leave me alone!"

Sophitia merely cocked her head to the side in a quizzical look. "_You look troubled, dear sister."_ She walked through the bars, her flesh molding around it with a sickening sound and reforming as she passed through. She approached her sister, who lay huddled in the corner, quivering horribly like a frightened fawn. She stopped before Cassandra and knelt down, eyes and voice heavy with sorrow. "_Sister, dear sister,"_ Sophitia began quietly, "_I cannot even bring myself to say your name. Saying it would mean you were still alive, not this shriveled husk of a shell. Not this mass of death I see before me."_

Cassandra felt hot tears continually falling from her eyes as she looked to her sister. "Sophitia," she cried desperately, "please say my name—I'm still me, I'm still Cassandra! I'm still _Cassandra_!"

"_No, sister, you are not. She died, cruelly forgotten, just another casualty of last night's massacre. I don't even know who you are, you wretched creature…why do you pretend to be my sister when you're really just like him?"_ Anger crept steadily into Sophitia's sorrowful tone.

Cassandra looked to her with horrified eyes. "I'm not like him!"

Sophitia reached forward, her hand piercing deep into Cassandra's chest, reaching through blood and sinew until her fingers clenched tightly around her heart. "_Then tell me, sister,"_ she asked angrily, eyes burning, "_why have you let this wither and die?"_

Cassandra let out a sharp gasp as excruciating pain lanced through her chest. Her breath came in short, shallow pants as she fearfully met her sister's hateful glare. A sneer curled upon Sophitia's pale lips. "_Why did you do this to me, my sister? Why must I die every night?"_ She tightened her grip upon her sister's heart. "_When will it be your turn to die?"_

Cassandra closed her eyes tightly and let out a sharp cry as pain overwhelmed her weakened body, shuddering and collapsing heavily to the cold stone floor. Pressing one hand to her chest, breath hissing painfully through clenched teeth, she finally opened her eyes and cast fearful glances over the confines of her cell…but it was cold, silent, desolate, just as it had always been, and she wrapped trembling arms tightly around her knees as she peered into the silent, lonely darkness.

* * *

Raphael did not return to the dungeons until late the following evening, standing somewhat more steadily as he made his way across the cold flagstones leading to Cassandra's cell. _Surely she's learned her lesson,_ he thought absently as he ran his fingers over the brass key in his pocket, but when he finally came upon her, dimly illuminated by a square of moonlight within the shadows of her cell, she lay curled tightly in on herself in the farthest corner, her eyes wide with fear as she peered over her knees, body trembling with sharp, pronounced tremors.

Raphael frowned deeply at the clearly terrified girl before him, extracting the key and fitting it into the lock. _This won't do at all_, he thought irritably as he tugged open the barred door. "Cassandra," he said quietly, moving slowly to her side and taking her hands in his. "Perhaps it would be best if you came upstairs and had something to eat." He carefully removed the cold iron manacles from her wrists, noting with a hint of alarm the torn, bloodied flesh beneath them. "Cassandra," he repeated, scowling slightly as he surveyed the damage with a critical eye.

A sharp cry, verging dangerously on a sob, tore through the air, and Raphael winced in pain as Cassandra suddenly leaned against him, wrapping her arms weakly around his torso, pressing her forehead against his chest as she began to cry. "What on earth is the matter, dear girl?" he asked, placing one supporting arm around her and carefully bringing her to her feet.

Cassandra rose helplessly with him but remained firmly within his embrace, pressing one tear-stained cheek to his chest. "They won't go away," she whispered shakily, "the dead just won't go away…" She bit back a sob and held him tighter.

Raphael absently rubbed the small of her back in a vague gesture of comfort. "Come now, darling," he chided half-heartedly. "The dead can do no such thing from the grave. No one else was down here; anything you experienced was merely in your mind. Now come, love, I believe you have learned your lesson." He wrapped one supportive arm around her shoulders and silently led Cassandra from the darkened dungeons.

* * *

The food before her was, as always, wonderfully prepared, sumptuous delicacies from the farthest reaches of Europe, rich-red wine beckoning temptingly from a gilded goblet.

Cassandra stared blankly at the spread before her, absently poking a serving of duck galantine with her fork.

Raphael frowned at her distant behavior, casting a critical eye over her pale form. "Cassandra," he began carefully, resting his elbows on the table and interlocking his fingers, "you need to eat."

Cassandra remained silent, setting her fork along the edge of her plate and pushing aside the goblet of wine with one finger.

"My dear girl," Raphael said in an exasperated tone, "they are only visions—they will not hurt you."

Silence.

Suppressing a sigh of frustration, Raphael reached for his own wineglass and downed a third of its contents in one gulp, casting an irritated glance at his companion. Foolish girl would waste away to nothing at this rate, he groused. No sense of self-preservation at all. Perhaps it might be prudent to call in a physician…or perhaps she'd be more receptive if he instructed the cooks to prepare dishes from her homeland…

But why on earth, he wondered, sipping at the remainder of his wine, brow lightly creased in concern, should he possibly care what might happen to her? She was, of course, easily replaceable, should he deem the experiment a lost cause, choose to seek another to fill her place. Eager, simpering maidens were so easily obtained at the expense of mere subtle charm and honeyed words; should he grow tired with Cassandra, another would be found to replace her with very little difficulty.

The soft, quiet clink of metal against china echoed through the stillness of the dining room, and Raphael looked to see Cassandra silently sliding her butter knife to lie beside her salad fork, eyes shadowed and haunted as she stared at the delicate patterns upon her plate.

_But that's not it at all._

He despised the thought, certainly would never speak it aloud…but somehow he knew that she wasn't so easily replaced. A thread of concern weaved through his mind as he observed her silent pallor, and he steadily fought the growing need to comfort her. Not since Amy entered his life had he felt such a strong concern for another's health and well-being…and the thought weighed heavily upon him, uncomfortable and unwelcome. An experiment, truly—vengeance against the young woman who had dared best him, turning her to shadows and darkness…but somehow, against his own desires, his meticulous plans, Raphael felt the faintest spark of concern and something dangerously close to affection for the young woman…

And at that, he slammed his wineglass down and pushed his chair angrily from the table, stalking over to Cassandra and pushing her plate towards her. "If you refuse to eat," he said darkly, "I will not feed you." He snapped his fingers impatiently, and several maids rushed quickly to the table and awkwardly began to Cassandra's place, reaching around the stoic young woman and gathering her dishes. "I have been a most gracious host," Raphael continued, voice thick with anger and hatred, "and I will not accept such stark refusal, least of all from one such as you. You will eat what I place before you, or you will burn with hunger—do you understand, you wretched girl?" A stab of pain tore through his wounded chest, and Raphael swore darkly as he pressed his hand to the bandages beneath his fine tunic. "Miserable creature," he snarled, "do you see what you've done now?" He tore his hands from the broad oak table and began to stride angrily from her.

"I'm not hungry."

Raphael stopped at her quiet, detached statement, turning back to face her distant, haunted gaze. Dark shadows lay beneath her reddened eyes, her normally pink-tinged cheeks pale and drawn. The visions had begun to take a devastating toll upon her, body and soul.

_It must be that shard,_ Raphael thought, frowning as he observed her worryingly detached demeanor, unfazed even by his righteous fury. _It's begun to drive her mad. It appears I must find a solution._

Raphael paused for a moment, a note of concern entering his gaze as he continued to regard Cassandra's silent form. "I'll be in my chambers," he said finally. "Do as you wish—but do not leave the castle and do not harm my servants, or the consequences will be dire." Resisting the urge to place a comforting hand to her pale cheek, he turned and exited the dining hall, moving silently through the stone corridors to his private quarters.

Upon entering his expansive bedchamber, Raphael carefully undressed and climbed into the luxurious softness of his bed, pulling the rich-red silk sheets around his muscular form and lying on his back, eyes distant. Sleep would not come easily to him now…not while thoughts of that wretched woman still plagued his mind, fleeting, strangely tempting.

Had he made a mistake in choosing her? Cassandra was painfully stubborn and strong-willed…beautifully strong, that one, he thought, faintly admiring. But surely she should have possessed strength enough to withstand the infection, just as he had. Raphael frowned slightly, thoughts scattered and unsettled. _Perhaps_, he thought, _her strength is far less profound than she would have others believe. Perhaps her strength of will and sharpened tongue serve merely to conceal the cry of a frightened girl who has fallen far too deeply._

Whatever the case, he would need to ensure that she was of sound mind before he journeyed once more to find the soul sword. That final thought remained with him as he slowly drifted into sleep.

* * *

The night was startlingly cold, seeming to pierce her to her very bones as Cassandra stood on the balcony adjacent to the dining hall, casting sorrowful eyes to the waning harvest moon. Soft footfalls sounded at a distant behind her, echoing through the still mountain air. "What are you doing here?" a quiet voice asked, a hint of disdain threaded through its tone.

Cassandra continued to stare towards the moon, eyes distant, vacant. "I don't know."

Amy came to stand silent beside Cassandra, eyes dark and inscrutable "You don't belong here," she said after a long moment, voice flat and emotionless. "Papa pays too much attention to you—he hardly spends time with me any more. And you hate it here—everyone knows it. Why don't you leave?"

Cassandra stared at the young girl beside her, attempting to formulate a response to her blunt inquiries. "Because I can't," she said finally, a note of faint desperation entering her tone. "I—" She paused, struggling to remember why she had first come to this desolate fortress. "—I need to find Soul Edge. Raphael knows where it is; I can feel it. And I have to find it…I have to," she finished, voice wavering slightly.

"Why? Why do you need to know where that sword is? Why is it so important that you had to take Papa away from me?"

"Because my sister was chosen by Hephaestus to destroy it…but she's a mother now, and a wife…she shouldn't be out there. She needs to be home, with her children and her husband. She shouldn't be anywhere near all this madness and darkness. She needs to be with her family. Gods be damned," Cassandra said, feeling a tight lump rise to her throat and suddenly finding herself fighting a rush of tears. "Gods be _damned_," she repeated, "family is more important—family is everything." She angrily brushed her fingers over the corner of one eye.

Amy remained silent for a moment, regarding Cassandra curiously. "You have a sister?"

"An older one, yes. And a younger brother."

Amy thought for another moment. "And you love this sister very much." It wasn't a question.

"Of course. She's…she's my best friend."

"Then you should go home and be with your family," she said flatly. "I don't need a mother." Ignoring Cassandra's sharp look of surprise, Amy turned on her heel and retreated into the shadowed corridors of the fortress.

"A…a mother?" Cassandra asked in disbelief, staring into the darkness. "What did she…" Cassandra's words halted on a strangled cry as a sharp sword suddenly pierced her chest, blood seeping thickly from the wound. She gazed in horror at the silvered blade, recognition dawning as she viewed the carefully-engraved inscription upon sacred iron…

"_There is no home to return to,"_ a disdainful voice echoed through the night. "_You have no place left here."_ The sword withdrew with a sickening sound, and Cassandra collapsed to her knees, pressing one hand desperately to the bloodied wound. She cast her eyes upwards, helplessly, to see Sophitia standing before her, carefully gripping her blood-stained weapon, poised to attack once more…at least, what once might have been Sophitia, beneath grey, rotted flesh, peeled away and exposing bleached bone. The foul corpse stared at Cassandra with eyeless sockets, her jaw slack. "_You sought to save me from the sword,"_ it said in a dark, mocking voice, chattering with blackened teeth, "_and you ended up a slave to it yourself. Disgraceful."_

Even as sharp pain coursed through her body, even as she pressed her hands to her bloodied chest and stood upon weary, unsteady legs, Cassandra narrowed her eyes and met the eyeless stare of the abomination before her. "You are not my sister," she stated through gritted teeth, digging her fingers into soft flesh, desperate to suppress the pained cries threatening to tear from her throat. "_You are not Sophitia."_

The corpse's lipless mouth formed a hideous mockery of a smile, all blackened, broken teeth and rotted flesh. "_I am your sister,"_ it said, voice high and rich with amusement and delight, "_because you have made it so! You cannot undo the mistakes you've made, dear sister. Now—why don't you die like a good girl?"_ The corpse lowered its sword and swiftly charged.

Anger and exhaustion finally overtaking her, Cassandra narrowed her eyes and charged back at the attacking corpse, only to watch it vanish into the darkness as the tip of its sword brushed against her torn flesh. Startled, Cassandra stumbled forward, falling roughly to her knees upon the cold flagstones of the balcony. Shaking slightly, she pulled herself slowly to her feet, dusting herself off and casting worried glances around the balcony and nearby dining hall. The corpse was nowhere to be seen.

Rubbing tentatively at the now-absent wound in her chest, Cassandra bit her lower lip and quietly slipped into the dining hall, a slight tremor in her weary limbs. The visions were growing stronger, she thought uneasily, peering into the darkened shadows and wrapping her arms tightly around her frame. Stronger and more frequent…more vivid. Fear gripped her even through the silence of the hall, and she moved quickly to her chambers, slipping into a simple nightdress before climbing into bed, crossing her arms over her chest and burrowing under the thick comforter. She stared into the darkness of her bedchamber with wide, frightened eyes, trembling slightly even as she curled in on herself beneath the rich linens.

She was scared. That was it, really—even though she'd tried so desperately to deny it, even though she'd fought with every ounce of courage she possessed to stand strong even as the visions plagued her, as she felt her sanity begin to slip farther away even as she desperately tightened her grip…she was scared. And for the first time in ages, she wished fervently for someone to hold her, to stroke her hair and whisper that everything would be all right…

_Anyone… I don't care who, I just need __**someone**__…_

Sleep remained elusive as the night wore on, shadows stretching along the broad stone walls as moonlight moved and shifted. And still she remained uneasy, eyes wide with fear, until she finally flung back the covers and rose from the warmth of her bed, wrapping her arms around herself and stepping into the frigid corridor outside her chambers and beginning to wander aimlessly through the labyrinthine halls.

The flagstones were cold beneath her bare feet, gooseflesh rising upon her arms as she continued to make her way through the corbelled passages, gazing uneasily at the dark, silent doors marking the entrances to any number of rooms no doubt forbidden to her…until she finally came upon a pair of ornately-carved doors of heavy burled oak at the end of a long, straight corridor. The mastery of the woodwork spoke of their possessor's status, wealth, power…and at that, Cassandra realized just whose chambers she had stumbled across.

Apprehension coiled with fear in the pit of her stomach as she drew closer to the doors, running her fingers over the rich tracery. _Maybe_… she thought hesitantly, moving one hand down to grasp the brass knob, _maybe it would…be all right if I just…_

Even as her mind deliberated, her hand had already tugged open the heavy doors, and she stood at the threshold to Raphael's private quarters. A fire still burned brightly within his hearth, staving off the sharp winter chill that enfolded the rest of the fortress by night. Cassandra moved towards the fire and held her hands out to it, briskly rubbing them together as she cast her curious gaze around the bedchamber, stopping suddenly as her eyes settled upon an elegant, towering bed at the far side of the room, a faint outline visible from within its broad posts and curtains.

Quietly, her footsteps carefully light, Cassandra crept over to the bed, a slight warmth spreading through her as she observed Raphael's sleeping form, bare to the waist, wrapped in rich red silks. He seemed somehow peaceful in sleep, his brow smooth, hell-fire red eyes closed and so achingly _normal_. His chest rose and fell softly, evenly with his breath, and he appeared so utterly tranquil that Cassandra quietly sat upon the bed and watched him for a long moment, strangely compelled to reach with curious fingertips and brush his hair from his forehead…

The fire popped and crackled sharply through the silence of Raphael's bedchamber, and Cassandra paused, stilling her hand. _What am I doing?_ she wondered, confusion and strange desire warring in her mind. How could she have forgotten that this was the man who had captured her? The man who had tortured her, twisted her mind, transformed her into something she couldn't bear to name? \

And yet…

She was drawn to him, to his arrogance, his dismissive coolness…to the brief, fleeting moments when the ice within his gaze melted, just slightly, just enough to betray the faintest note of concern for her.

She had shed tears for him. She had fought for him. She had protected him, killed for him, suffered the sting of madness for him. He could destroy her as easily as drawing a breath, simply wrap one hand around her slender throat and tighten… Yet somehow, deep within her, she had found such comfort in his embrace as he freed her from the dungeons—just as she had felt in the other moments she had wept in his arms, awash in guilty calm, eerie serenity.

"Why do you do this to me?" Cassandra whispered, silently cursing him for the confusion he inflicted upon her weakened mind even as she ran her fingers through his soft blond hair. "Why can't I really hate you?"

Raphael remained peacefully silent in sleep, and offered no answers. Cassandra absently brushed her fingers over his cheek even as she frowned, her brow lightly creased in worry and confusion, deeply in thought. So she remained for long moments, until, finally, her body and mind thoroughly exhausted and spent from too many days, too many nights held within the grip of haunted visions and bloodied nightmares, she quietly lay beside him, curled within the rich silks and against his muscular form, against his warmth, and was soon deeply asleep.

Several moments passed before Raphael wearily opened one eye and curiously regarded the slumbering form beside him, a strange smile appearing at the corners of his lips. _And here you are..._ he thought, possessively snaking an arm around her small waist and holding her close.

* * *

A/N: This chapter came about as I looked around my new living room (We just got finished moving) and I decided to unpack some video games and arrange the living room so that it was all nice and pretty and then I decided, "you know what? I'mma write my next chapter and reward myself and my readers... and then I'mma have a mojito." So here's chapter 8. Now where's my damn mojito?


	9. Chapter 9: The Matriarch

**Title:** The Pitfalls of Madness

**Chapter 9:** The Matriarch

**Author:** Alicia "Kamitose" Guy

**Summary:** After receiving a message from another swords girl to beware of Raphael, Cassandra seeks him out to settle the score once and for all, but is she truly prepared for what she is about to face?

**Rating:** R, for strong language, violence, and possible sexual situations.

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters in this piece of fiction belong to me. They belong to Namco. Dronia Fairborough belongs to me (don't worry, she is but a very bit part, I don't even pair her up with anyone. She is not a Mary Sue.)

**Distribution:** As long as I am credited, and as long as you ask (and let me know once it's posted) then I don't care where it's distributed. BUT you have to ask.

**Author's Note: **This is my first ever Soul Calibur fanfiction. This site is severely lacking in Cassandra/Raphael fanfiction and I would like to help remedy that.

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER DEFINITELY EARNS ITS M RATING, FOR NON-GORY REASONS. ADULT THEMES AHOY!**

**SPECIAL THANKS TO ANYSIA FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA READER!**

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"_A heart of gold but it lost its pride, beautiful veins and blood-shot eyes;_

_I've seen your face in another light, why'd you have to go and let it die?"_

_Let It Die ~ Foo Fighters_

* * *

The night air was frigid against her skin as Cassandra lay half-asleep beside Raphael within the rich expanse of his bedchamber. Slanting moonlight shone through the numerous frosted windowpanes and illuminated her small form, highlighting the sloping curve of one slightly bared hip, shining over high cheekbones and slightly parted lips, yet still failing to brighten the deepening shadows beneath her closed eyes.

Almost beautiful, in a way, Raphael thought with a faint smile as he watched her shiver slightly in the chill midnight air, vainly seeking warmth beneath cold silk sheets. He brushed his fingers absently over her pale, moonlit cheeks, some inscrutable emotion flashing through hell-red eyes before he moved to wrap one arm possessively around her waist.

Cassandra awoke suddenly from her uneasy rest at that, eyes widening slightly at the feel of Raphael's arm tightening around her, his opposite hand trailing cold fingers over the swell of her hip, all temptingly smooth contours, until he moved slowly upwards and rested his hand fully upon her breast. "What—" she started.

"Indeed," Raphael's low, smooth tone interrupted her, his breath hot upon her neck. "What, exactly, are you doing in my bed, you wretched girl?"

Her mind seemed as frozen as the midnight air, a sharp shock of fear stilling her tongue and her body even as she felt the sudden urge to pull herself forcefully from his embrace and run from him and his dark influence, so sharply heightened here in the monster's lair.

"Well?" Raphael asked coolly, trailing his fingers lightly over the full curve of her breast.

Suppressing a shudder borne of fear and cold, Cassandra closed her eyes, her body taut and tense. "I had another vision," she said softly. Carefully opening one eye, she cast a glance over her shoulder, fully expecting to meet with that familiar haughty sneer, faint amusement on noble features, but he appeared emotionless, his gaze fairly serious, almost interested. "Well?" she asked, a note of anger and frustration threading through her tone, emboldened by his lack of condescension. "Are you just going to scold me now and send me off? Or am I in far more trouble than that?"

Raphael's lips curved into a slightly sinister smile, and he moved to brush his thumb over the warm skin of her shoulder, bared to his gaze when her thin shift had fallen in the night. "There are many different kinds of trouble, my dear," he informed her, pausing slightly, stilling his fingers. "I had visions after my first encounter with Soul Edge... it is, in effect, why I am what I am today. The sword changed me, Cassandra…as surely as I have changed you. And while I must admit your visions seem to occur with far greater frequency than my own in those first tumultuous months, you shall simply have to endure." Raphael paused again, a thought coming to him suddenly. "Would it ease your burden if I had one of my couriers find out where your sister was?" he asked, tightening his arm around her waist. "To assure you that she is still alive?"

Cassandra swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, nodding quickly. "I think it would," she said quietly, glancing once more at him over her shoulder. "…thank you." Slowly, hesitantly, she placed one hand against the arm at her waist, her palm warm and soft against his cool skin as she squeezed gently.

Silence dawned between them for a long moment. Cassandra felt her pulse quicken at the close contact, her hand still upon the arm wrapped tightly around her waist, his breath hot upon her neck, his tall frame curled warmly against her own. _In the monster's lair_, her mind reminded her, faintly warning…but despite the potential danger, she felt almost comfortable. Warm. Somehow…safe. Pressing her head back against the smooth pillows, she allowed her eyes to fall shut once more.

Raphael watched her curiously even though his own features betrayed no emotion. So relaxed, even with such close proximity to him. She was pressed against him, held firm in his embrace, and yet she did not struggle against him, fight to wrench herself from his influence.

A very promising development.

"I suppose it would be all right if you stayed here for the night," he finally said after a long moment, absently stroking her hip. He watched her silently, seeing a strange sense of peacefulness in her resting features, the faintest hint of a contented smile upon her slightly-parted pink-tinged lips, his fingers trailing over smooth silk and fair skin… And in that moment, something stirred, deep and insistent, his pulse increasing ever so slightly as he truly observed the swell of her feminine curves in cool moonlight, all smooth fullness that reminded him how long it had been since he'd had a woman in his bed…

But it would be a mistake, surely, he thought with a frown. Her transition was not yet complete, not as cursed visions and ghostly voices continued to plague her. And yet even as he considered this, his gaze continued to rest upon his unfinished protégée, and his thoughts drifted once more to those strange moments of weak concern, of her sharpened sword glinting brightly as she stood to fiercely defend him, of something dangerously close to affection, and he realized, faintly, that he _wanted_ her.

Lingering thoughts of propriety entered his mind even as he leaned forward and softly kissed the nape of her neck, all warm, parted lips, darting his tongue against soft flesh, but the die had already been cast.

Cassandra's eyelids once more fluttered open at the strange sensation, warmth and wetness against her skin, and she attempted to turn her head to cast a questioning gaze at Raphael. "What…" she began confusedly, "…what are you doing?"

Raphael had no response but to pull her tightly against him, pressing her against cool silk and warm eiderdown until she lay half beneath him, her eyes wide with confusion and a hint of fear, even as his own burned with lust and desire as he bent his head and kissed her deeply, pressing one hand to the back of her head, forcing her to meet the passion of his kiss, sliding his tongue wetly against her own. Cassandra lay frozen for a long moment, eyes wide, body stilled with shock, before finally, tentatively, reaching to wrap her arms around him and meeting his tongue with her own.

The kiss continued, unbroken even as Raphael braced himself on one arm and moved his free hand over her supple curves, trailing elegant fingers over her hip, teasing along her abdomen until he once more found her breast, stroking the pad of his thumb across one covered nipple, kissing her more deeply even as she moaned quietly against his mouth.

He broke off the kiss just momentarily, harshly tugging aside her silken nightdress and dropping it to the floor beside the bed, carelessly forgotten. Blood-red eyes raked over her nude form, over full breasts and generous curves, finally resting upon the silvery-light scars crossing her fair skin. Just days earlier they had been fresh and reddened, sore—she was healing quickly, Raphael observed with a slightly satisfied smile, resting his weight once more atop her as he began to softly kiss her pale throat and move his hands along her thighs.

Cassandra arched her back slightly at the feel of his caress, his lips warm against her neck, clever hands and fingers moving just so between her legs. She had almost forgotten what it felt like, pleasures of the flesh, had been too concerned with her mission to even consider sexual encounters. Yet she now found herself in her enemy's bed, helplessly seduced by his wicked charms, wicked mouth, wicked hands, and even as the last vestige of rationality within her mind screamed in protest, her body wrapped around him, leaned against him, found itself taking pleasure in his embrace and offered no complaint. Suppressing a moan, Cassandra lifted her hands and pressed them to his shoulders, her fingers digging slightly into smooth muscle.

Raphael ceased his ministrations then, smirking lightly at her frustrated groan, and moved to nudge her thighs fully apart with one knee, lifting her hips slightly as he stroked her, almost tenderly, before pressing himself to her entrance and sliding fully inside her, eyes falling shut at the sharp pleasure of the smooth heat enveloping him. Cassandra felt a sudden rush of heat through her own body, at the rich fullness of him inside her, and she let her head fall back on a moan, digging her nails into his shoulder blades, small crescents of blood appearing upon his pale skin. Something stirred within her, not increasingly familiar darkness now but hot desire, and she moved to press one hand against the back of his neck, bringing him close until she caught his earlobe between her teeth and nibbled gently. "Take me," she whispered, eyes dark as he moved within her.

The low sound of a seductive snarl escaped Raphael's lips, a wicked smile curving slightly at the corners. "You're mine," he said, voice dark with passion and possession as he pulled back before pushing deeply inside her once more.

Cassandra vaguely heard a soft cry escape her throat—he was so _warm_, or perhaps it was merely the heightened sensation of her own blood flowing through her, hot and fierce, burning through her veins, screaming for release. She lifted her legs and wrapped them tightly around him, her nails dragging down his back, scoring flesh and leaving bloodied trails. Her hips moved against his, a delicate dance of basest carnal desire, and she tilted her head upwards until her lips rested against his throat. His blood fairly hummed beneath the skin, rich and seductive, so _tempting_, and she kissed him once, twice, before growling desperately and slowly driving her teeth into his flesh, sweetly-metallic blood filling her mouth and rushing down her throat, and she moaned helplessly at the feeling.

Raphael let out a grunt of pain even as he continued to move within her. "Wretched woman," he ground out between panted breaths, "know your place."

He wrested his neck from her desperate bite, and his lips crashed into hers. Deep crushing kisses, the taste of his own blood hot and rich upon her lips and tongue, and he pulled his lips from hers even as she caught his bottom lip in her teeth, nipping lightly. "Wretched girl," he whispered darkly, kissing her again, harsh and fierce, slipping his tongue against hers, before dipping his head and sinking his own teeth into her flesh, her blood deliciously sweet against his tongue as the wound he had dealt her split and reopened beneath his mouth.

The same wound that had so viciously burned and fairly pulsed with pain now sent a sharp jolt of sheer lust and pleasure lancing through her veins even as his teeth remained within her flesh. It was a strange sensation yet nearly unbearably _good_ as his thrusts came faster, harder, his hips slamming against her own as he continued to drink of her. Her hands grasped fistfuls of the cool silk sheets, white-knuckled, teeth grit against pain and pleasure deliciously intertwined until, finally, she arched sharply against him, his name tearing from her throat as white-hot pleasure crested over her.

She was tight around him, pressing up desperately as she came, and he held her tighter, the taste of her blood sweet upon his tongue, a faint tingling through his chest as his aching wound began to heal, just a bit faster, lust and desire desperately rushing through his veins until, finally, held deep within her, he found his release, holding her tightly until the aftershocks slowly abated, lowering his head to lick once at her wound before raising his head once more to regard her in the moonlight.

A slight sheen of perspiration shone against her pale skin, bright and glistening in the full light of a waning moon. "My wicked girl," Raphael murmured appreciatively, trailing his fingers over her cheek, "my darling, wicked girl."

Cassandra remained silent as she peered up at him, her breath still short from exertion. She had always known he was strong, and she had felt the smooth cording of his muscles from within their embrace, but now she fully regarded him within cool moonlight, all chiseled muscle, broad chest and strong arms, and she smiled, faintly, genuinely, for the first time in far too long. Sighing lightly, Cassandra rested her head back against the soft pillows upon the bed, now in stark disarray, her body weary and fully spent.

Raphael bent to kiss her once more, savoring one last gasp as he slowly pulled out of her, moving to lie back beside her, one arm again possessively tightened about her waist. Silence reigned between them for some time, breathing and heartbeats slowly normalizing.

The silence eventually grew overwhelming, even within the surprisingly warm comfort of his arms, and Cassandra finally spoke. "I had a talk with Amy earlier."

"Oh?"

"She said…" Cassandra paused. "She said she wants me to leave. That she doesn't need a mother. What exactly does that mean?"

Raphael remained silent, attempting to formulate a sufficient answer. "I—" he began, before shaking his head. "My love, Amy has no mother—her birth parents succumbed to the plague in our homeland, and I took her in and raised her as my own. But she has no real women in her life to help her."

Cassandra leaned back and afforded him a skeptical look. "…so, what," she started, voice slightly disbelieving, "you just figured, 'okay, I need a mother figure for Amy…hey, that Greek girl completely kicked my ass once. She'd make a _perfect_ mother. Okay, cool, we'll just pencil her in, a little kidnapping, some manipulation, some corruption just to keep things interesting…and sex. That'll work, too.' You know, I really wonder about you sometimes." Cassandra smirked, a mischievous glint shining within her eyes, a remnant of a now-distant self.

Raphael stifled a laugh. "You know me so well, don't you? You've so carefully considered my motives and reasoning—brilliantly done, you wretched girl." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I will admit that my reasoning for keeping you here has slowly shifted into a need for Amy's protection, as well as that of the castle in my absence…and, perhaps, in the future, you may prove to be a mother for her as well."

"And just asking was just too unfashionable for you, I suppose."

He narrowed his eyes darkly at her flippancy. "Amy is everything to me, Cassandra; I did what I thought was best for her. Everything I do is for her."

Cassandra raised one eyebrow curiously, her reddened eyes glistening in the darkness. "And was that, just now, for her?" she asked incredulously.

Raphael smirked, suppressing the urge to laugh. "No, foolish girl," he said, leaning down to kiss her. "_That_ was for me. If you are good, my dear…or bad…a number of things I do will be solely for you." His eyes were dark and inscrutable as he brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead.

"Somehow I doubt that," Cassandra stated flatly. "Although…" She curled into him once more, fitting perfectly against his taller frame, "…I wouldn't mind exploring you more at a later time."

"I'm sure we'll be able to come to a highly agreeable compromise," Raphael said seductively, yawning lightly as he held her close and settled back against the pillows.

* * *

Raphael awoke the following afternoon feeling far lighter and more refreshed than he had in some time, certainly since the incident in the village. A fair amount of his strength had returned to him, and thesevere pain lancing through his wounds had settled into little more than a dull ache. Stretching his arms fitfully as dawn slowly broke over the mountains, he turned back to the broad expanse of his bed and looked to Cassandra's quietly peaceful sleeping form. He had been surprised by her sharp aggression in the midst of passion, and yet she seemed so tranquil as she slept, utterly calm. _My wicked girl_, Raphael thought admiringly, reaching out one hand to brush his thumb over her cheek.

His thoughts were disturbed as a light rapping sounded upon his chamber doors. Frowning slightly, Raphael wrapped his dressing gown around his nude frame and crossed the room, opening the broad oak doors just a crack, weary disdain and annoyance stark upon his noble features. Outside stood one of the couriers that he had dispatched to scout Ostrheinsburg Castle. "Well?" Raphael began irritably. "What on earth do you have to report at this wretched hour?"

The courier backed up slightly in deference to his lord. "Well, sir," he stammered, "it seems the holy sword has not yet reached Ostrheinsburg. However, as for those who protect the cursed sword, there are four main guardians..."

Cassandra opened one eye slowly at the sound of the two men conversing beside the chamber doors. Raising her head from the rich pillows, she listened intently as they spoke.

"Tell me more of these guardians," Raphael said impatiently.

"Of course, my lord. The first guardian is an inhuman being with pallid gray flesh and the stench of death about him, who appears to climb across the very walls, God save me, and brandishes blades that look like claws. He does not speak, merely hisses and growls. The second guardian, I found, is a hulking giant with a great axe, twice the size of myself. He had fiery embers that seemed to glow from cracks in his rock-like body. It was quite unnerving, truth be told.

"The third guardian…so unlike the other two creatures, my lord. She was a young woman, fair-haired, rather beautiful, I must say, who seemed nearly remorseful of her position. She spied me as I worked, and rather than slaying me on the spot, she noted my lack of arms and instructed me to flee. She had a short sword and shield, well-made, fairly shining, but almost certainly bearing traces of infection from the cursed sword. The fourth guardian—"

"Wait," Raphael interrupted. "Go back to the girl."

Cassandra's heart had risen to her throat, resting sickly as the courier's words echoed through her mind. It couldn't have been Sophitia—it just _couldn't_. Her sister would never serve the evil sword. Had something happened in her absence? She rested her head back against the pillows and feigned sleep even as she continued to listen intently to the conversation before her.

"What of her, my lord?" the courier asked, puzzled by his master's interest.

"Tell me more about her. Did she have a name?" Raphael asked, his tone dark with dreadful seriousness.

"I'm afraid she didn't say much to me other than to tell me to run. What exactly is it that you need to know, my lord?"

"Describe her. Was she tall? Short? What color were her eyes? What language did she speak? How was she dressed?"

"W-well, my lord, I believe the woman had blue eyes, if I recall correctly…she stood about a head shorter than you or I. As for what she spoke, her language, I would say hazard a guess at Greek or Macedonian. She wore very little armor, and favored simple white cloth; her hair was long and loosely braided. If I may be so bold, my lord," the courier began carefully, not fully understanding Raphael's concern over the guardian meekest in appearance, "what about her interests you so?"

Cursing under his breath, Raphael glanced back into his chambers, resting his gaze upon Cassandra's sleeping form and feeling a faint note of relief. And yet still… "Perhaps this discussion is best had elsewhere," Raphael said shortly, taking the courier by the arm and beginning to lead him from his chambers.

The courier, however, did not fail to notice the young woman lying fast asleep in Raphael's bed and curiously observed her delicate features. "My lord…the young woman, if I may?" he said. "She looked rather like her." He gestured hesitantly towards Cassandra.

Raphael spared Cassandra one final glance, his features dark and grim. "We're taking this conversation elsewhere. Now." He tugged forcefully on the courier's arm and led him into the outer hall, slamming the broad oak doors behind him.

Cassandra continued to lie prone in bed until their voices finally faded, leaving her alone in cold silence. She slowly rose up, pressing the silk sheets to her trembling form. "Sophitia..." Cassandra said quietly, tears stinging her eyes as a wave of emotion washed over her. Why had her sister gone to defend the sword? What had she done?

_She needs me_. The thought was quick, unbidden, but it was true; she might be cursed, she might have fallen to Raphael's honeyed words and slow seduction, but her concern for her sister outweighed her own corruption and turmoil. If she had to strike down the gods themselves, so be it—anything for her beloved sister.

Cassandra rose quickly from the bed and tugged on her discarded silk shift. The early morning sun burned against her skin, hot and fierce, but she grit her teeth and steeled herself against the pain. _I'll save you, Sophitia,_ she swore mentally. _Some way, somehow, I promise I'll save you_. Sparing the bed one brief, inscrutable glance, she exited quietly from Raphael's chambers.

* * *

Cassandra made her way through the expansive dining hall, warmed and brightened sickeningly by the morning sun, distracted by determination and purpose until she was greeted by the young maid who had handed her the broach days before. "Lady Alexandra!" the maid cried upon seeing the young Athenian woman entering the room.

Cassandra looked to the maid, her eyes tired and troubled. "What is it?"

The maid stepped back fearfully, startled and shocked by Cassandra's reddened eyes, by the glint of madness and fire that shone from within their depths even as it lay masked by noble purpose. "It's too late," the maid said mournfully, pressing her hand to her chest and closing her eyes. "You've been lost to it." She made no attempt to hide her faith and protectively crossed herself.

Cassandra watched the display disdainfully, a frown appearing at the corners of her lips. "That won't do you any good," she said flatly. "The gods can't help you. And they wouldn't bother even if they could."

The maid lifted fearful eyes to regard Cassandra and noted the darkness that now held this once shining-bright girl so firmly within its grasp. She stood so pale now, all sharpened teeth and eyes burning hellfire red, _just like the master's_... The maid shuddered involuntarily.

"Where's Raphael?"

The maid was awoken from her thoughts by Cassandra's sudden inquiry. "I am uncertain, my lady," she began hesitantly. "However, breakfast is—"

"I didn't ask you about breakfast," Cassandra said angrily, teeth grit in annoyance. "I asked you were Raphael is."

"My lady..." the maid began tremulously.

"You're one of his servants—how do you not know where he is?" Stark rage began to pulse through her—how dare this woman not answer? How dare she defy her? "Why won't you answer me?" Cassandra demanded, grasping the maid sharply by her shoulders. "Tell me where he is! Tell me—" Cassandra's words came to a sharp halt as a shock of pain rushed through her neck.

The maid looked fearfully behind Cassandra to see Raphael, one hand tightly grasping the nape of her neck. "Let her go, Cassandra," he said, his tone light and even.

Cassandra gasped once, twice, before finally releasing the maid, watching the young woman massage her sore shoulders as she rushed off to the kitchens. After a moment, Raphael released her.

"Control, my dear," Raphael said simply. "You must have control. What did I tell you earlier about being a good girl, hm? About hurting my servants? Certainly you're not so simplistic that I must constantly remind you." His eyes were narrowed in his familiarly threatening gaze, but his anger seemed distracted, less pointed and passionate than in times past.

"I—" Cassandra started, "I don't know what came over me...I'm so sorry." She bowed her head, deepest guilt washing over her. The young maid had been impossibly kind to her, even at the risk of incurring her master's wrath, and yet Cassandra had turned against her with sharp words and even the threat of violence. She wondered, faintly, of what horrors she was now capable, and fought to suppress the thought even as a shudder coursed through her.

Raphael watched her carefully, his brow furrowed in concern. "I may have to leave for the sword much sooner than planned," he said finally, glancing out the broad-paned windows to the rising sun along the horizon.

"How soon?"

"As soon as I'm healed. A few days at best. A week at most. I seek the Holy Sword," Raphael observed absently. "Soul Edge is useless to me now. Soul Calibur may be much better suited to my needs."

"And what are those needs?" Cassandra asked carefully, eyes narrowed slightly. She suspected he'd avoid any mention of Sophitia.

"To create a perfect world for Amy and myself. A world that will accept her, not fear her, despise her." He smiled genuinely, albeit with a glint of madness shining within his eyes. "And I suppose they would accept you as well, my dear."

Cassandra narrowed her eyes further. "And I suppose, then," she began in a tight voice, "that my sister, my family... they will accept me for what I am now?"

Raphael looked to her sharply, his voice catching in his throat. _Could she have possibly heard…? No, of course not, the girl was fast asleep as that wretched fool spoke._ He shook his head. "If they really loved you," he responded finally, "they would accept you as the beautiful creature you've become." He paused. "That is, after all, the purpose of family, is it not?"

"And what of your family?" Cassandra asked quietly.

A dark shadow crossed Raphael's noble features, and Cassandra fought the urge to take a step back at the murderous look in his eyes. "Dead to me," he said flatly, voice dark and angry. "All of them. I have no need for those wretched fools; let them destroy themselves with their petty squabbles as they sought to destroy me."

Cassandra observed Raphael curiously as he spoke, a hint of darkness within her heart stirring at the thought of retribution, at blood-soaked revenge, vainly wishing to aid Raphael in avenging any hardships he may have suffered at the hands of a treacherous family, standing beside him as together they struck down those who sought to ruin him…

"Something to explore at another time," Raphael said quietly at her expression. "You should rest, my dear. This is no hour to be about." He paused briefly before reaching out one hand to run a swift caress along her cheek, dimly noting her surprised look before taking his leave. Dark thoughts clouded his mind, all dread foreboding upon the heels of the warmth and passion of the night before.

This newfound news had the potential to undermine his plans entirely.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so I said chapter 5 was the hardest chapter to write... and then it was chapter 7.... well forget those two, this one was put off for over a week. Even naming the chapter was a bitch and a half. This was my first time writing a sex scene and I was dreading it. I kept putting it off and then I kept rewriting it feeling that it was awkwardly written. I must again thank Anysia for the great advice and my husband for encouraging me, that I could in fact do this. Also, thanks to my husband for helping me with the courier's dialog. So here you go, chapter 9. See I have a direction with this fic, it isn't just randomly torturing poor Cassandra. :D


	10. Chapter 10: The Mark

**Title:** The Pitfalls of Madness

**Chapter 10:** The Mark

**Author:** Alicia "Kamitose" Guy

**Summary:** After receiving a message from another swords girl to beware of Raphael, Cassandra seeks him out to settle the score once and for all, but is she truly prepared for what she is about to face?

**Rating:** R, for strong language, violence, and sexual situations.

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters in this piece of fiction belong to me. They belong to Namco. Dronia Fairborough and Samuel belong to me (don't worry, they are but a very bit parts, I don't even pair them up with anyone. They are not Mary Sue/Gary Stu.)

**Distribution:** As long as I am credited, and as long as you ask (and let me know once it's posted) then I don't care where it's distributed. BUT you have to ask.

**Author's Note: **This is my first ever Soul Calibur fanfiction. This site is severely lacking in Cassandra/Raphael fanfiction and I would like to help remedy that.

**SPECIAL THANKS TO ANYSIA FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA READER! **

**MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! HERE'S MY PRESENT! CHAPTER 10! Bow not included.**

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* * *

  
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"_The night is my companion, the solitude my guide_

_Would I spend forever here, and not be satisfied?"_

_Possession ~ Sarah McLachlan_

* * *

Cassandra spent the better part of the day milling irritably around the castle, her mind constantly wondering back to the troubling new developments she'd overheard. Her sister, pure, divinely-blessed Sophitia, in league with the evil sword? Somewhere, she thought with a scowl, the gods must be having quite a laugh at the veritable Greek tragedy unfolding before them.

A faint whisper echoed through her, murmured voices speaking of the blood on her hands, the taint of her soul, and Cassandra felt her heart clench painfully in her chest as she continued to roam the castle halls, mood ever worsening.

Her footsteps were light against the smooth, worn stone of the endless corridors as she wandered aimlessly, casting restless eyes over richly-woven tapestries and wrought-iron sconces bearing bright torches. As she passed a familiar set of broad-set double doors, a tremor of pain lanced through the scarred flesh upon her neck, and she raised her fingers to gingerly press upon it. _The forbidden room_, Cassandra thought absently. The one thing he denied her. What could possibly be concealed within its cold stone walls that could harm her so? She knew of the dangers that lurked within the castle itself—had become intimately acquainted with it on several levels now. How much worse could it possibly be?

She stood in silence for a moment, eyes never moving from the doors, before reaching out one hand slowly to rest upon the brass knob.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you."

Cassandra started, pulling her hand away from the knob sharply and turning to confront the source of the chiding words, eyes widening as she beheld the slightly-smirking blond woman standing before her, pale pink lips slightly upturned into a ghost of a smile, aquamarine eyes glinting brightly with mischief and humor.

"Wouldn't want you to start killing again," Cassandra's doppelganger explained, not unkindly, resting one hand upon a familiarly curving hip.

Cassandra stared at the mirror-image of herself, all golden light and brightness where she herself now bore only darkness and shadow. "Why should I listen to you?" she asked irritably. "You're just a maddened vision—what's a few more?"

"Ah, but each one breaks you just a little more." The doppelganger sighed lightly. "No matter, I suppose—you've already become nothing more than a shell. Just a thoughtless killer, his faithful little dog." She reached out to touch Cassandra's cheek, fingers shockingly cold, and Cassandra jerked back. "Can you feel the hunger?" the doppelganger continued, voice faintly mocking. "You want to sate it, now don't you? There are plenty of victims in the village below, all pretty and pale and just _begging_ to die. They're all beneath you, aren't they? Just lovely nourishment, worthless creatures—and oh, you're so much more than that, aren't you, Cassandra?"

Cassandra glared at her double. "You're not real," she ground out between clenched teeth.

"Maybe," the doppelganger began, a hint of a dark smile playing across her lips. "Or maybe I'm just the last vestige of sanity you have." She moved closer, blue-green eyes growing darker. "I wonder—who's the bigger disgrace to the family, hm? Your sister never fucked her enemies, now did she?" The doppelganger reached forward, painfully grasping Cassandra's chin in her hand. "You killed for him. And then you killed because it suited you, because you wanted to.

"Monster," the doppelganger continued, her voice a dark whisper, a mocking note of loving admiration threading her accusing words. "Nothing but a monster. Do you still expect them to welcome you back home, little girl? Would you take your beautiful nephew and niece into your arms, have your world reduced to the sound of their blood rushing through their veins, pumping fresh and hot, so deliciously _tempting_? Oh, and you know what your _sister_ would have to do..."

"Stop it!" Cassandra shouted, angry tears stinging at the corners of her eyes, desperately pulling away once more from the doppelganger's grasp.

"She'd put you down," the doppelganger continued, "with all the love and care afforded to a mad, feral dog. After all," she said, words eerily familiar, "are we no different than beasts?"

"'We'?" Cassandra asked, heart seizing as the doppelganger raised her eyes to meet hers, now darkly-reddened, sweet pink smile glinting with sharpened teeth.

"Well," the doppelganger said, faintly mocking, features twisted into a sneer, "aren't we one and the same, little girl? Who really knows? Perhaps this darkness was in you all along…or perhaps you're just slowly losing what's left of your broken mind."

Pain, anger, denial rushing swiftly through her veins, Cassandra narrowed tearful eyes, clenched one fist tightly, and connected with the doppelganger's jaw, a sharp crack sounding through the silent hall. "I have had _enough_ of—"

Her voice caught in her throat as she saw Sophitia standing before her, one hand pressed to her rapidly-bruising jaw, a smear of blood upon her fingers. "_Why do you hurt me, sister?_" Sophitia asked, voice pained, before her image shifted and changed until the doppelganger once more stood before her, laughing richly in derision.

"What _are_ you?" Cassandra asked breathlessly, eyes wide.

"What are _you_, little girl?" the doppelganger coolly responded. "Certainly no longer human." She took a step towards Cassandra, eyes drinking in the flashes of fear across her face.

"But you still want to save your sister, don't you?" she continued. "There must be a way—perhaps you could take her place instead, and defend the sword."

A bright, searing flash of light tore through the hall, and the doppelganger's eyes once more burned red, sharpened teeth glinting within a dark, twisted smile. "The sword beckons," she whispered, and her voice _changed_, deepening, distorting, becoming something _inhuman_… "Come."

_The Azure Knight_… Cassandra recognized distantly, eyes widening in fear.

The doppelganger reached forth suddenly, palm open, just barely grazing Cassandra's chest, yet sending her sprawling backwards and landing heavily against the broad oak doors barring the entrance to the forbidden room, a sharp, sick thud sounding through the corridor at her body's sharp impact with the unyielding surface. Cassandra bit back a pained cry as she fell to the floor, her head swimming, fresh bruises beginning to blossom upon her back and legs.

"You can still save her," the doppelganger called faintly, voice familiarly sweet as Cassandra struggled to straighten her vision. "Surrender the last vestiges of your dying soul for hers…" When her sight had once more returned to normal from the force of the impact, she was once more alone in the hall.

"Dammit," Cassandra swore between grit teeth, struggling to come to her feet, "what in Hades _was_ that?"

Biting back another oath, Cassandra pressed one hand gingerly to her head and groaned lightly. _What is __**wrong**__ with me?_ she thought, casting wary eyes across the shadowed corridor. Wasn't whatever transformation she had undergone complete by now? What could possibly be happening to her?

A low chorus of whispers echoed through her mind as Cassandra leaned against the nearby doors. Startled, she glanced back at the paneled wood, remembering her close proximity to the forbidden room. _I've got to get out of here_, she thought, pushing back from the doors and standing unsteadily. _There's something in that room_… She shook her head, ignoring the steadily increasing pain in her back and limbs, only to feel a light trickle of wetness slip down the back of her neck. Worriedly, Cassandra pressed her fingers to her nape, bringing them back slick with blood. "Great—that's just what I need," she muttered irritably.

A pair of reddened eyes watched silently from a distance as Cassandra spoke to herself. They had widened in curiosity earlier when Cassandra had suddenly struck out at the open air, fist suddenly and inexplicably bloodied, and widened even further when an unseen force had flung her violently against the wall.

Eyes betraying nothing of her inner thoughts, Amy slipped quietly back into the shadows.

* * *

Night soon fell upon the castle, and Raphael stirred slowly from fitful slumber, stretching his long limbs before rising from the bed. His chambers, so normally enveloped in piercing darkness, were tinged a faint orange-red with the dim light of the waning hunter's moon at the horizon. The seasons were turning; he would have to take his leave within the next few days, and yet so many preparations had yet to be made. Suppressing an irritated groan, Raphael dressed and soon exited into the shadowed corridors outside his chambers. The silence was thick, somehow oppressive as he made his way through the stone halls, the splintered remains of a coolly logical mind systematically sorting through potential solutions to the task ahead…as well as his continuing problem with Cassandra.

The scent of blood came upon him suddenly, sweet and richly-metallic in the cool mountain air. Footsteps quickening, Raphael followed the trail until he came across the forbidden room, eyes narrowing as he regarded the damaged doors, cracked wood smeared with blood. Running his fingers over the splinters, the scent of blood growing thicker, sweeter, he finally discerned its source. _Cassandra_, he thought, anger and concern warring within his mind.

A quiet footfall sounded behind him, and Raphael narrowed his eyes irritably. "Cassandra," he said, voice betraying a hint of frustration even as he continued to stare at the damaged wood before him, "what happened here?"

Cassandra awkwardly shifted her weight from one foot to the other, pressing one hand to the makeshift bandage at the nape of her neck. "I…got dizzy and fell," she said quietly.

Raphael turned sharply from the doors, eyes narrowed angrily. "Don't lie to me." He strode towards her, pulling her hand away from the bandage and inspecting it with a critical eye. "What happened?"

"I—" Cassandra paused, fighting the urge to pull away from his touch. "I don't know," she said finally, her tone heavy with exhaustion and defeat. "I thought it was just another vision, but…this was different. It wasn't just my sister…I mean, she was there, but not for long, just for a second… Oh, gods, it was _me_, Raphael—I was looking at _myself_, the way I used to be, before…" Her voice caught in her throat, and she shut her eyes for a moment. "She said such horrible things to me. _About_ me. And then she…she threw me against the doors. And she barely _touched_ me. The power behind her…it was incredible, just so _much_. It was so _much_…"

"What did she tell you?" Raphael asked, absently smoothing her hair away from her forehead.

Cassandra squeezed her eyes more tightly shut. "She—" she started, "—she called me a monster. Something horrible. Told me that I could never go home, that I'd destroy everything, that I'd never be satisfied…" She paused for a long moment before pulling slowly away from Raphael's grasp. "She told me to serve the sword."

Raphael narrowed his eyes at her, gaze fierce and burning. "Serve the sword," he repeated in a dark voice. Without warning, he reached out and seized Cassandra sharply by the arm, forcing her to walk quickly beside him, ignoring her cries of protest.

"Where are we—ow!—going?"

"Away from that room," Raphael informed her through gritted teeth. "Away from its dangerous influence on you." He stopped suddenly, pulling her to a stop in front of him, grasping her arms tightly with gripping hands. "I do not want you anywhere in the vicinity of that room for the foreseeable future," he said harshly. "Do you understand me?"

Unable to speak, Cassandra merely nodded, eyes lowered.

Raphael stared at her for a long moment, as if attempting to gauge her sincerity, before releasing his hold upon her. Hesitating slightly, he leaned forward and pressed a hard, impulsive kiss to her forehead. "Good girl."

Mildly shaken by his response, Cassandra wrapped her arms around herself and cast her gaze around the shadowed corridor. "What are we doing here?" she asked.

Raphael regarded her dispassionately. "I have something to show you," he said gruffly, turning to a nearby torch and pressing his thumb to a hidden mechanism within the richly-wrought sconce. A dull, heavy shudder of shifting stone reverberated through the hall, dust and debris settling upon the smooth stone floor as a section of wall slowly lowered, revealing a set of steeply-descending darkened stairs.

Raphael extracted the burning torch and handed it roughly to Cassandra. "Take this and follow me."

Cassandra stared after him in stark disbelief as he headed into the darkness, awkwardly holding the torch between her hands. "What's down there?" she asked apprehensively. She felt the pull of a darkly-malevolent presence from the depths below—darker than even Raphael. _Or yourself_, her mind whispered.

"Your future, if you continue to be so careless," Raphael responded. "Come along, now, child, I don't intend to spend the entirety of the evening waiting after your foolishness."

With a deep breath to steady her rapidly fraying nerves, Cassandra hefted the torch and followed hesitantly after him, feeling woefully small and vulnerable within the encompassing and somehow foreboding darkness.

* * *

The stairs continued for what seemed ages, and just as Cassandra had begun to wonder if her future weren't some allegorical inversion of the plight of Sisyphus, descending an endless flight of stairs for the rest of eternity rather than forcing a gargantuan boulder uphill, the stairs came to such a sudden end that she nearly plowed right into Raphael. She peered around his shoulder, attempting to discern their new location with no small hint of trepidation, only to see a flat, unadorned expanse of roughly-hewn stone wall.

"So let me get this straight," Cassandra started, raising one eyebrow. "You went to all the trouble of building a secret passage…that leads nowhere? Good to see your peasants' money at work, Raphael."

"Still your tongue before I remove it, wretched girl," Raphael responded, running one hand over the uneven surface. "As you should have now learned, nothing within these walls is as it seems." As his hand brushed over a seemingly-innocuous stone protruding slightly from the surface, the familiar grinding of shifting stone sounded once more, revealing a set of thick, wrought-iron bars set before a small cell. Cassandra regarded Raphael quizzically before the sound of quiet, frantic chatter reached her ears. Apprehension seizing her as she approached the bars, Cassandra peered into the darkness, eyes widening as she beheld the dazed young man huddled in on himself, curled tightly into one corner, muttering to himself as if in a kind of maddened fever.

"His name is Samuel," Raphael said simply as Cassandra turned to him, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Why is he down here?" she asked, horrified.

"My dear Cassandra," Raphael said, eyes narrowed, voice lightly mocking, "surely you don't believe that you are the first wicked creature I've turned, hm? The first I've bedded, yes—" He trailed his fingers lightly, appreciatively along the curve of her hip, and Cassandra shuddered. "—but not the first I've corrupted." He placed an arm firmly around her waist and turned her to face the cell.

"Samuel was once a young peasant boy from the village," Raphael continued. "His great-grandfather had been a trusted servant of this castle's previous lord—Vlad Drăculea. Shortly after Drăculea's execution, nearly a hundred years past now, Samuel's forefather was cast out, and his family was forced to return to the farm. Several generations became contented with this, but, oh, not Samuel—he desired nothing more to return his family to its former glory. It was to that end that he sought me shortly after my acquisition of the castle, seeking a position of some esteem within my private guard."

Raphael pulled Cassandra tightly against him, trailing his free hand over her supple curves, fingers burning against patches of exposed skin. "But it was more than that," he continued, lowering his head so that his breath whispered hot against her ear. "Samuel wanted power. He'd never been content with the drudgery of peasant life; he aspired to more. And I am a generous man, my dear—I accepted Samuel's offer, installed him within my guard, granted him a sizeable stipend for his work. But not without a price."

Cassandra remained silent, dread blossoming within her belly as Raphael continued his tale.

"You see, love, I've studied the effects of the cursed sword, as well as the Evil Seed itself, for some time. Cursed as I was by its influence, I determined that the most effective way to examine the newfound gifts it had imparted to me would be to test them upon my…volunteer."

"You're a monster," Cassandra whispered.

Raphael smiled darkly against her ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the lobe. "He agreed to it, of course. The offer of his share of my own extensive power was too great a temptation to resist. The visions began subtly at first, fairly infrequent, fairly innocuous, but they soon became violent and damaging—much like yours. His instincts became baser, less civilized, almost animalistic. Soon the other guards spoke of him only in hushed, fearful tones; the servants never approached him unless strictly ordered. There came reports of slaughtered livestock in the nearby villages, soon escalating to violent assaults upon the villagers themselves, inexplicable, brutal deaths. The servants came to me, speaking fearfully of the sight of Samuel wandering the castle halls by night, eyes reddened, tearing at himself as if in the throes of some mad fever.

"Towards the end, in the final days of whatever remained of his sanity, Samuel came to me and spoke of the sword, how it called so sweetly to him. He rushed towards me, eyes dark with madness, and I felt the unmistakable pull of his mind—the sword's influence had so tainted Samuel that he could survive only by stealing the souls of others. After subduing him, I had no choice but to confine him here, in Drăculea's personal oubliette designed for the most maddened of prisoners."

Raphael moved his free hand to grasp Cassandra's chin, tilting her head back until she met his gaze, eyes slightly widened and fearful. "If you do not learn to control yourself, my love," Raphael informed her darkly, "you shall soon join him."

Samuel's chatter stopped suddenly, and he raised his head, peering through long, filthy, matted hair to lock eyes with Cassandra. She froze within Raphael's tight embrace at the sight of his eyes—no whites, no pupils, just a sea of pure, bloodied red. Deep scars and still-fresh wounds dealt by uneven fingernails lined his face. His cracked lips tilted into a twisted sneer, revealing a set of sharp, blackened teeth. A thick line of drool began to snake slowly down his chin as he stared at Cassandra, his hunched posture screaming hunger and desire until a horrific howl echoed through the small cell and Samuel _moved_, throwing his full weight against the bars, desperately clawing towards the young woman before him.

"_Samuel!_" Raphael barked commandingly over Cassandra's reflexive shriek of terror, pulling her behind him protectively.

Samuel's desperate howls subsided into a series of low growls as his reddened eyes beheld the master and the terrified young woman clinging to him, gripping the fine linen of his sleeve and pressed tightly against his side. With one last bark of irritation, Samuel finally bowed his head in deference, shoulders heaving with exhaustion from the sudden exertion, and he returned to his corner, curling in on himself once more and lying silently in the darkness.

Frowning at the shadowed form of the young man, Raphael turned to Cassandra. "Are you—" His words came to a sharp halt as she flung herself into his arms, pressing one tear-stained cheek against his rich tunic, weeping quietly.

"Why would you show me something like that?" Cassandra asked, voice thick with angry, fearful tears. "Why do you show me these things?" She weakly pounded one fist against his chest. "I can't become like that…I won't, I _won't_…" She slumped against him, weakened, defeated. "I want to go _home_," she said finally, her voice breaking on the words.

Raphael brought his arms around her comfortingly, absently stroking her hair, the barest hint of a frown appearing at the corners of his lips. "We both know that's not possible," he said after a moment, attempting a soothing tone but failing miserably. He released her long enough to reach down to retrieve the still-smoldering torch Cassandra had dropped earlier, returning to press one hand to the small of her back and guide her towards the stairs. "Come now, love—you've seen what I wanted you to see."

Keeping one arm around her trembling form for support, Raphael and Cassandra ascended the darkened stairs back towards the main floor of the castle, but not before Cassandra spared one final glance towards the maddened creature confined to this subterranean prison, her stomach tight with fear, eyes inscrutable as she considered the possibilities.

* * *

A/N: Sorry, short chapter. I'm pacing myself. I am plotting out my next few chapters, so yeah. Also, yay Raph/Cass is starting to be recognized as a pairing... though most of the recognition involves people bitching about what a creepy couple it is, or how writing it would require major OOCness from one of the characters, blah blah blah. It works and it just takes some really creative juices and a good understanding of the characters. Sheesh, so much hate. We don't even have that many fics here on . Seriously people. It's a really good ship! Of course, those of you reading this probably already know that.


	11. Chapter 11: The Misgivings

Title: The Pitfalls of Madness

Chapter 11: The Misgivings

Author: Alicia "Kamitose" Guy

Summary: After receiving a message from another swords girl to beware of Raphael, Cassandra seeks him out to settle the score once and for all, but is she truly prepared for what she is about to face?

Rating: R, for strong language, violence, and sexual situations.

Disclaimer: None of the characters in this piece of fiction belong to me. They belong to Namco. Dronia Fairborough and Samuel belong to me (don't worry, they are but a very bit parts, I don't even pair them up with anyone. They are not Mary Sue/Gary Stu.)

Distribution: As long as I am credited, and as long as you ask (and let me know once it's posted) then I don't care where it's distributed. BUT you have to ask.

Author's Note: This is my first ever Soul Calibur fanfiction. This site is severely lacking in Cassandra/Raphael fanfiction and I would like to help remedy that.

**SPECIAL THANKS TO ANYSIA FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA READER!**

**

* * *

  
**

"Watching you drown, I'll follow you down  
And I am here, right beside you"  
Lights in the Sky ~ Nine Inch Nails

The night was still as Raphael and Cassandra walked back through the halls. Cassandra was deeply troubled by what she had seen in the hidden chambers. She didn't want to share Samuel's fate—didn't want to become a raving animal, confined to solitude for the rest of her days. Wrapping her arms around herself, she realized grimly that the nights were getting colder and colder. She shivered a bit, hoping he wouldn't notice as they walked in silence.

"Cold, child?" he asked, his face blank.

"A little," she quietly responded. But it wasn't just the temperature that made her feel so cold; the warmth in her heart had all but faded away. She coldly realized that she was becoming…no, that she was something she would have otherwise fought to destroy. "I want to go home," she whispered.

Raphael stopped, his arms casually crossed in front of him. "And what would that accomplish? What would you do at home, being what you are now? Would you go back to your family's bakery? What the kind of life would you be able to lead?"

Cassandra lowered her head. "I..." She stopped, wearily placing one hand to her forehead. "Nevermind. I…think I should probably get some sleep. Suddenly I'm not feeling too well." She headed off in silence towards her room, leaving Raphael to himself.

* * *

Cassandra closed the door to her room, leaning heavily against its wooden frame. Running her fingers through her hair in frustration, Cassandra suppressed the building scream that threatened to tear from her throat. She had to get out of there—the castle, as massive as it was, felt like it was closing in on her, the rooms and walls getting smaller and smaller. She let her back slide down the door until she sat on her haunches, holding her head. _Maybe it's just all of this madness getting to me_, she thought to herself. Madness... what would happen if she encountered her sister now? What would Sophitia think of her sister…her maddened, murderess of a sister?

She shook her head at the thoughts and stood from her spot on the floor. What she needed was to sleep, clear her thoughts... The knowledge that, if nothing else, Sophitia was still alive put her at a bit more ease. Perhaps now she wouldn't be visited by her specter anymore. Cassandra slipped out of her clothes and threw on her night slip. Her bed, she had noticed, had been made after the previous night of disuse. Cassandra stretched her arms and slowly climbed into bed. She was still sore from everything that had happened over the last couple of days and wanted nothing more than to rest. She closed her eyes as she pulled the thick, warm blankets around her and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Hollow halls reverberated greatly with footsteps as Cassandra made her way through the ruins of Ostrheinsburg castle. The place seemed so desolate, overrun with vines and fairly coated with thick layers of dust from years of disuse. The air was thick and almost choking as she slowly proceeded through the castle. She finally approached a broad pair of highly ornate doors. A slight apprehension grasping her heart, she pulled open the doors and made her way inside.

Immediately upon entering, Cassandra saw a giant chasm in the floor. She took in her surroundings, noting the armored knights that formed a wall that blocked her from the throne. Scanning the parameters of the walls, her eyes finally came to rest upon three corpses, all at various stages of decomposition, impaled upon hooks on the wall. She felt bile building up in the back of her throat. As she stared helplessly at the corpses, the rotted left leg on the most decayed corpse suddenly detached, dropping into the chasm below. She suppressed her urge to vomit and turned away, surveying her surroundings as she finally heard the limb hit the bottom of the chasm.

Cassandra took a tentative step forward and then stopped abruptly. A moaning hiss sounded from behind her; she turned to see the corpse with the missing limb raising its mangled arm, its mouth agape and its soulless eyes staring past her. She looked over her shoulder in the direction of the corpse's pointed fingers. The wall of guards parted, and there, seated upon the throne, was the Azure Knight, casually resting his head against his hand, Soul Edge tightly grasped in his massive claw. Cassandra took a step back, startled.

"_**Come**_," he commanded, voice reverberating off the massive walls, "_**partake in my darkness!**_" He shot his hand out and dark, crimson tendrils of pure energy quickly made their way towards Cassandra, wrapping themselves around her throat, wrists, ankles, waist. They seared her flesh, an unholy fire burning her. He motioned for her to come and the tendrils pulled her helpless body towards him, forcing her entire body to move one painstaking step at a time. Cassandra's body screamed in protest as she fought with all her might, yet still she continued her advance towards the dark effigy.

"_**Darkness—I can smell it. It rolls off you in waves**_," Nightmare said as he came to his heavily-armored feet. Cassandra was now a few stairs beneath him, staring up at the unholy terror before her. "_**Join me...**_"

"I won't help you! Find somebody else to fight your fruitless war!" Cassandra yelled through grit teeth, anger rolling off her in waves.

Nightmare merely clenched his fist and the tendrils tightened, choking the air from her lungs. "_**You are in no position to decline, simpering fool!**_" Cassandra struggled against his restraints but felt only sharp twinges of pain at her resistance. A tortured whimper escaped her lips.

"Goddammit," Cassandra swore through clenched teeth, fighting desperately against Nightmare's control.

"_**Your gods cannot help you here**_," he replied darkly, and a shadow began to move from behind the throne. A small-framed figure stepped out from behind the ornate chair and approached the Azure Knight's side. Horror dawned on Cassandra as she watched her sister come to Nightmare, and protectively place her hands upon the dark plates of his armor.

"Please, Cassandra," Sophitia entreated. "We can be a family again. I've missed you so much." A hint of darkness shimmered unsettlingly within her blue eyes.

"Sophitia! What are you doing? Don't you see he's controlling you? Open your eyes!" Cassandra screamed desperately.

"He's not controlling me, Cassandra—I chose this. Besides, the darkness suits you." Sophitia began to smile but stopped as she leveled her gaze at her sister's struggling form. "You've got something on your hands."

Cassandra looked down at her hands, horror overtaking her as blood flowed freely from her palms and fingertips. "Oh gods..."

Sophitia laughed, a harsh, dark sound. "Gods? What gods? Oh, dear sister, you've done far worse than I have now. Everything I've done has at least been for noble intentions... but you…you murdered in cold blood, out of _lust_. If any one should be standing here, it's you." Sophitia turned back to Nightmare, sorrow, anger, and the faintest hint of manic glee warring in her eyes.

"No, I—" Cassandra choked as a sudden rush of blood poured from her mouth, impeding her airflow and stopping her words from forming. But it wasn't her blood... it wasn't her blood! It was the blood of all her victims, an unending flood of their stolen lifeblood. Bright, vivid flashes came to her, and the deaths replayed before her eyes, a horrific montage of death and torture, coming quick and sharp, jumbled and disjointed yet so unbearably _real_. Cassandra managed a strangled scream, dropping her weapons to the floor.

Sophitia's lips turned to a frown. "It's no use, master," she said with a sigh. "She won't join us. What should we do?"

The Azure Knight looked to Cassandra, now doubled over upon the floor, a shuddering sob tearing from her throat. "_**'We'?**_" he thundered. "_**I will not accept such failure!**_" He raised Soul Edge above his head with a ghastly cry and quickly brought it down towards Cassandra's trembling form.

* * *

Cassandra awoke with a start, a strangled breath catching in her throat. She pushed herself up on shaky elbows, eyes darting frantically around the room and starting at the sight of a glowing red flash. She jumped back, pressing her back against the headboard. A small hand pulled at the curtains at the foot of the bed. There stood Amy, face held tightly in an angry pout, a small black and white cat cradled in her arms. Her red eyes flared with anger.

Cassandra put a hand to her chest in relief as her breathing became more regulated. "Oh Amy, it's just you. You scared—"

"I know what you and papa did," Amy said coldly, cutting Cassandra off.

"You... what?" Cassandra asked, confused.

"Don't play dumb. I grew up on the streets—I've heard those noises before. I'm not as naïve as you'd like to believe." Her eyes narrowed. "I heard what you two were doing in papa's room last night."

Cassandra found her words catching in her throat; how was she supposed to respond to that? For one so young, Amy clearly knew more than one her age should—her angry look alone belied her youth.

"Amy, why do you hate me so much?" Cassandra finally asked.

"Because you're not wanted here," Amy responded frankly. "Because you're too light. Even if you are like us now, you're still too _light_. And," she said quietly, "because papa pays more attention to you now. You took him from me— I want him back."

Cassandra stared at her for a long moment. "You're kidding, right?" she asked, incredulous. "You honestly think I'm trying to steal Raphael from you? Gods, no! Look, Amy, what happened last night... that was that was not a regular thing. I swear."

"Hm," Amy said, her features a portrait of nonchalance as she gently began to pet the cat she held in her arms. It responded with a warm purr as Amy scratched her behind one fuzzy ear.

"What's her name?" Cassandra asked amiably.

Amy glanced at her, eyes impassive. "Lillian." She paused for a moment. "You like her?"

Cassandra shrugged and attempted a friendly smile. "Sure—she seems like a nice enough kitten."

"Good." Eyes never betraying a hint of emotion, Amy turned suddenly and flung the cat towards Cassandra's face, its claws outstretched. "Play nice."

* * *

Amy walked calmly down the stairs, halting when she reached the library. She quietly peeked her head in and saw Raphael sitting in his favorite chair, poring over a stack of books. She entered silently and stopped just inside the doorway.

Raphael put down his book and looked to his daughter, a small smile crossing his face. "Amy," he greeted, smile fading at her awkward expression. "Is everything alright?"

Amy shuffled her feet a bit. "I want to hear a story," she said, slowly approaching his broad-backed chair. "Will you read to me?"

Raphael cocked a quizzical eyebrow. "Now?" He motioned to the slowly-rising moon beyond the expansive picture window. "The night is still young. Is something troubling you, Amy?"

Amy looked to Raphael, an innocent hint of a smile crossing her face. "No, everything is fine. I suppose I'm just not used to the extra guest here." She was beside him now, looking at him with wide red eyes. She stretched out her arms and let out an exaggerated yawn before climbing into Raphael's lap and awaiting her promised story.

* * *

Cassandra angrily stalked the halls. _Oh, is that little brat going to get it for throwing that damn cat at my face,_ she fumed silently. As she walked, Lillian tried to claw at her ankles, leaping and latching on every so often. It was more out of play than anything, yet it served only to annoy Cassandra further. Short scratches criss-crossed her cheeks, mementos from her attempts to detach the clawing creature from her face.

As she stalked past the library, her eyes came to rest upon Amy sitting on Raphael's lap as he read to her in his finely-accented French. Cassandra paused for a moment, glaring at the young girl. Amy turned her head around and caught the stare. She responded in turn, affording Cassandra an impossibly smug and self-satisfied smile before turning back to Raphael.

Heaving a sigh, Cassandra continued down the hall until she reached the dining hall. The cat had finally stopped following her, it appeared. Cassandra stretched absently as she cast her gaze around the expansive hall. It was nearly deserted at this hour, she observed, starting as a sharp pang of hunger shot through her stomach.

It was only when she identified the craving lurking at the back of her mind that fear jolted through her; no, she didn't hunger for food, but for _blood_. It rapidly intensified, becoming not so much of a craving as an insatiable thirst. _Oh gods, not again_, Cassandra thought desperately, _not this again_. She collapsed to her knees, her forehead pressed against the cold flagstones. _Make it stop... please make it stop!_ She bit her lip as the hunger built, her sharpened teeth penetrating the soft membrane. Droplets of blood appeared upon her lip; it only made her hunger for more. "I have to make it stop!" she cried.

The young maid she had nearly assaulted that morning had entered the dining hall at the sound of movement. "Lady Alexandra, are you alright?" She rushed over to Cassandra in alarm.

Cassandra sharply thrust out one arm in an attempt to keep the maid away. "Get away from me!" she yelled, her voice breaking on the last words. She heard the maid take another tentative step towards her. Cassandra shot her head up to look at her, hell-red eyes blazing brightly as the blood from her lip dripped down her chin. "_I said stay back_!" she cried, desperation and fear thick in her voice.

The terrified maid stumbled backwards. She recalled Samuel going through a similar incident some time ago—an incident that had not ended well. "I'll…I'll go get the master..." the maid stammered as she started towards the broad double doors behind her.

Cassandra jumped up suddenly, a feral look in her eyes. She locked her maddened sights upon the maid and rushed towards her with a sound somewhere between a growl and a cry. The maid screamed and shut her eyes tightly, preparing for another assault, only to start as Cassandra merely pushed her aside and ran from the room. Quickly regaining her senses, the maid rushed to find Raphael, shaking violently all the while.

* * *

Cassandra ran helplessly through the darkened corridors, her mind racing as fast as her legs. _Blood... must sate this hunger. Oh gods, what has he __**done**__ to me?_ Her heart pounded as she passed various servants, pushing past them, trying to get away from the temptation, the dark desire that ran through her veins. _Keep moving... don't stop... keep running, keep __**running**__..._

She finally came to the castle courtyard, the night air chilling her pale skin. Her breath steamed before her as she surveyed her surroundings, wrapping her arms around herself tightly, her mind awash in fear and desperation.

Her gaze finally came to rest upon a long wooden structure in the distance. _The stables._ With any luck, Raphael would have an old nag that she could feed on. After all, she reasoned, blood was blood. It shouldn't matter where it came from.

Cassandra crept silently into the stables, scanning the stalls for the weakest, oldest, most decrepit beast she could find. She settled upon an old painted mare resting quietly within the last stall, walking up to stand silently beside its mottled flank and scratching its neck. She could hear the blood flowing through its veins, hear the beating of its heart. And not just the mare's heart and blood; she could hear the rush of blood from every creature stabled here. The noise grew overwhelming. Shaking her head purposefully, Cassandra narrowed her eyes and focused as hard as she could on the mare in front of her. The other noises faded slowly, the sound of its blood and heart becoming the only noise she heard.

_Now…how do I bite this thing?_ she wondered.

A twig snapped behind her. Cassandra turned sharply towards the sound, another heartbeat thundering in her ears at the sight of a young stable boy, not so much younger than herself, staring at her, eyes wide. _I suppose this will do..._ she thought distantly as she fell upon the startled boy.

"Forgive me..." she whispered before driving her sharp teeth into his throat, hot, sweet blood beginning to rush down her throat, every bit as delicious as she remembered. The metallic sweetness soothed and invigorated her, filling her with a sinful lust.

A pair of strong, restraining arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind, tearing her away from her victim as she kicked and cried out in loss.

"Cassandra! Control yourself!" Raphael commanded angrily. The maid from earlier ran over to the stable boy and hastily tore a scrap of fabric from her apron, pressing it firmly to the thickly-bleeding wound upon his throat.

"No! More! I need _more_! Let me go, damn you!" Cassandra cried desperately as she struggled and squirmed in his grasp. Raphael merely tightened his grip on her, features expressionless as Cassandra emitted a yelp of pain. "Let go of me!"

"_You_ are out of control," Raphael informed her darkly. He twisted one arm behind her back sharply; Cassandra dropped to her knees with a gasp. "You must learn to behave yourself; you cannot allow your bloodlust to take control of you." He sighed angrily. "Wretched girl. You thirst for more, do you not?"

He received nothing that could be considered a coherent response. Cassandra struggled still, her breathing ragged, occasionally punctuated by a low grunt or growl. Raphael shook his head disdainfully. "You are truly hopeless." He knelt down beside her. "Would you like to spend the night in the dungeons again, darling?" he asked in a soft voice. Cassandra immediately stopped writhing in his grasp, her eyes beginning to focus, as if awakening from a darkened haze. "Good girl. Now get up and return to your quarters."

Raphael sharply released his grip upon Cassandra's wrist and watched her unsteadily come to her feet. He watched her carefully, eyes narrowing as she glared at him before shakily making her way back towards the castle.

Frowning, Raphael turned his attentions back to his servants. "Get him patched up," he instructed the maid flatly, motioning to the prone stable hand. "He's no use to me dead." He spared them one final glance before turning and following his creation into the night.

* * *

A/N: This chapter took me a while to write. I had a bit of a block and was under a lot of stress. But I finally finished it. BIG thanks to hubby for helping me write the nightmare scene. He really helped me find Nightmare's voice.


	12. Chapter 12: The Mindless

Title: The Pitfalls of Madness

Chapter 12: The Mindless

Author: Alicia "Kamitose" Guy

Summary: After receiving a message from another swords girl to beware of Raphael, Cassandra seeks him out to settle the score once and for all, but is she truly prepared for what she is about to face?

Rating: R, for strong language, violence, and sexual situations.

Disclaimer: None of the characters in this piece of fiction belong to me. They belong to Namco. Dronia Fairborough and Samuel belong to me (don't worry, they are but a very bit parts, I don't even pair them up with anyone. They are not Mary Sue/Gary Stu.)

Distribution: As long as I am credited, and as long as you ask (and let me know once it's posted) then I don't care where it's distributed. BUT you have to ask.

Author's Note: This is my first ever Soul Calibur fanfiction. This site is severely lacking in Cassandra/Raphael fanfiction and I would like to help remedy that.

SPECIAL THANKS TO ANYSIA FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA READER!

* * *

_"Turn to the gates of Heaven  
To myself be damned"  
Eye ~ The Smashing Pumpkins_

As Cassandra walked away from the stables she kept turning back to see if Raphael was still paying her mind. The hunger still burned fervently in her belly and she wanted nothing more than to sate it. Her mind was clouded, a haze preventing her from thinking clear thoughts. The only thought on her mind, the only thing she could think of, the one thing, all consuming, was the one thing she was being denied. She needed to wait for the right moment to slip away and find new prey. Her mind was that of a predators and she would get what she desired.

A momentary distraction caught Raphael's eyes. A strange shadow out in the distance, and she was off, running as fast as her legs would carry her. She ran towards the castle. She knew exactly where to get what she wanted. Yes, the hidden chambers. No one would miss Samuel. The way she saw it, she was doing Raphael a favor. That wretched fool was of no use to anyone any more. She would put him out of his maddened misery.

Faster now, her heart raced. Up the stairs, through the gates, into the inner halls and down the hall that Raphael had taken her. She pulled the lever, descended the stairs, not needing a torch, and she searched for the misplaced stone. _Where is it?! Where?!_ Her thoughts were frantic, disjointed. The hunger was all she could think about. It drove her mad. _THERE! _She pressed the stone into the wall and watched as the wall rose.

There he lay, just as he had before. Nothing more than a dog in his cage. She rattled a loose stone against the bars. "Wake up. Wake up, Samuel!"

Samuel lifted his head, like a dog awakening from slumber. He curiously approached the bars, his head cocking to the side inquisitively. "Good... good Samuel. Come here." Samuel finally reached the bars. Cassandra suddenly reached her arm in between the bars, trying to grab him. Samuel jerked back.

"I know what you came for." He said suddenly.

Cassandra was taken aback. "You can talk?"

"I'm no simpleton. You're hungry! I can tell. I hunger, too. We can help each other." He said anxiously, he rubbed his mangled hands together. "You want blood. Need it even. Don't you? That's why you came. Yes, yes, that is why you came. No one will miss poor Samuel. He's just a crazy fool. Well, am I right?"

Cassandra stammered, words were hard for her to form. Her mind was still bestial from the hunger and she found it hard to formulate thought. "Y-yes."

"It's okay. I-I'll tell you what. I'll let you feed on me. Just don't kill me. We'll make an exchange. I let you feed on me, and then you let me out of here. This cell is so terribly small. I live in my own filth. I'd rather not though, so please let me out."

Cassandra thought on it briefly. He was in no position to make bargains but she agreed. She could always just drain him all the way anyway, go back on the agreement. He held his arm out through the bars. "Go on then. I'm ready."

His flesh was revolting, mangled and already missing patches of skin. Cassandra looked for a spot that wasn't thick with scar tissue. She found a soft fleshy part and as she grabbed his arm with both hands she sank her fangs deep into the flesh. The blood that rushed into her mouth tasted different. It didn't taste human, but there was a power behind it. An immense power. Her eyes fluttered shut against the rush and she drank deeper.

Intoxicating, rich, so good. Her mind shut off as all that concerned her was to feed, to sate the insatiable hunger. After what seemed like a near lifetime of euphoria, he wrested his arm from her grasp.

"Greedy, aren't we?" Samuel said grabbing his wrist. "Good, I like that. So now for your end of the bargain. You can't let me out without keys and I have no idea where the hell that blow hard keeps them.  
B-but, there's still a way. Yes, yes there is still a way. All I need is your soul and then I'll have the strength I need to get out of here! Yes, and you--- hehe... you could come with me! You want out of here am I right?"

Cassandra stepped back, her mind less clouded. "What? No! You can't have my soul! I'm kind of using it! I'd rather keep my soul and be stuck here than give it up!"

"But you don't need it to live. The priests are wrong. Souls are meaningless! We could leave here together! Be free. Yes, free! And---and we could leave that useless tool Raphael behind. Then we could serve the true master. Yes, our master. Our master." He prattled. His eyes widened with excitement.

"Our master?" Cassandra asked confused as she stepped away from the cage.

"Oh how wonderful it will be. You and I by the master's side. Serving the sword. Yes, yes it will be fun. Great fun. We'll never go hungry. The master wouldn't allow it. No, no, wouldn't allow it at all. Just let me out and we can be free from this."

Cassandra backed as far away from Samuel's cell as she could. "You're talking about serving the Azure Knight!"

"Yes! Our master. Now give me your soul and let me out!" He said grabbing the bars suddenly, his red eyes burning with desire and madness.

"No!" Cassandra said holding tight to herself. The blood she had drank earlier flaring up inside her now, a strange feeling coursing through her veins. "Wha-what's happening?"

Samuel's eyes narrowed. "Give me your soul, you filthy whore!" He yelled. He shot his arm out and grasped at Cassandra's throat. "I want it!" He said as squeezed.

Cassandra wheezed as he impeded her airflow, the cursed blood aching in her. "Yes, yes that's it. Give it to me, whore. Give me your soul." The pain she felt wracked her entire body, it was becoming overwhelming. Her eyes rolled back into her head. She was trying so hard to fight it, so very hard but it was not hard enough. She felt her soul being pulled, slowly, from her body.

Raphael burst down the stairs suddenly, rapier in hand. "Unhand her!" He said rushing over to the two. Raising his rapier, he brought it down swiftly, severing Samuel's hand at the wrist. Blood spurted everywhere as Samuel fell back, holding his bloody stump, inhuman noises emitting from him. Cassandra collapsed to her knees and slumped over, the hand dropping from her throat to the ground below. Her body still ached furiously, but she could feel her soul returning to her.

Raphael stared at Samuel, forcing him to retreat to the back corner of his cell. He then turned his attention to Cassandra as she lay huddled on the floor. "What the hell were you doing in here? You didn't feed off him did you?" He waited for an answer. "Did you?!"

Cassandra weakly nodded. Raphael roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her up off the floor. "Foolish girl! Have you any idea what you've done? You were trying so hard to avoid being like him... you may have just brought yourself closer instead. You are fortunate that I arrived when I had. You could have very well lost your soul."

"He said he could help me escape. Said we could serve the true master and leave you behind." Cassandra said finally looking up, her eyes seemed a little more red than before.

"He spoke with you?" Raphael said raising an eyebrow. "My dear, Samuel bit his tongue out in a fit of madness over a month ago."

Dread sank deep into Cassandra's stomach. Was it all another vision, or was it something worse? "Oh, gods..."

"Oh gods, indeed. You'll be a slave to the sword in no time at the rate you're going." Raphael said.

"Like my sister?" Cassandra said angrily, blurting it out before she realized what she had done. "Oh, shit."

Raphael cocked his head to the side. "What was that?"

"Nothing. I said nothing." Cassandra shakily responded as she held her stomach. She was not feeling well.

"You know about your sister's allegiance with the sword?" Raphael said stepping closer as he wiped the blood off his blade.

"I overheard your conversation with the courier... I was waiting for you to tell me, and of course," She grimaced in pain. "...you never did." Cassandra explained. The blood still burned in her veins as she held to the wall for support.

"You're still not leaving." He said turning to walk away.

"And who's going to stop me? I have to save her, she's my family!" Cassandra yelled at him.

"Then you understand why I cannot allow you to leave." He paused on the stairs, turning to look at her once more. "I will not kill her... I'll send her home. You have my word." He said, a slight look of compassion in his eyes. He then turned back around and walked off, leaving Cassandra and Samuel alone once more.

"Your word's not good enough." She said, eyes dark as they peered under her bangs.

* * *

Raphael paced the dining hall, furiously. "Stupid girl, what was she thinking? Feeding off Samuel?" He ran his hands through his hair slicking it back in frustration. "Is she that incompetent?!" He angrily swept his hand across the dining room table, sending a fine vase angrily crashing to the floor.

"Lord Raphael?" The maid from earlier said in a hushed voice as she entered the room.

He didn't turn around to look at her. "What is it?" He said sighing in frustration.

"Pardon my rudeness... but, what happened with Lady Alexandra?" She asked timidly.

Raphael looked down. "She was foolish. She fed off Samuel."

The maid paused for a moment. She knew that she would perhaps be punished for what she was about to say. "Sir, if I may be so bold... it appears that you care for Lady Alexandra. Perhaps, you should be gentler with her."

Raphael swiftly turned around. "Hold your tongue; it is not your place to speak thus! You are bold to assume such things. She is but a tool to me, a guardian to this home and for Amy. Be gone from my sight!"

The maid curtsied slightly and turned to leave, her steps hurried. She knew, deep in her heart, that had she spoken thus to him even two weeks ago, Raphael would have struck her down. But something had changed. While he was still a tyrant, a cruel being, there was something that Cassandra had done to him that perhaps had softened his heart, if only the slightest bit.

Raphael continued to talk to himself after the maid had left. "I must find a way to make sure she does not lose control. But how?" He paced a moment and then a mad idea dawned on him. His eyes wide with madness and realization. "That holy stone... yes, it should work!" He rushed off to the smith at once, urgency in his step.

* * *

Cassandra was about to leave the hidden chamber when she grew dizzy. Stumbling backwards, Cassandra's hand shot out to the wall for support. She stood still for a moment before letting her back slide down the stone wall. Cassandra sat dazed in the hidden chamber as she watched Samuel grasp at his bloody stump. She held her head, grasping at her hair, as the silence permeated the atmosphere, and squeezed her eyes shut against the occasional din of voices that tore through her mind. "What madness is this? The sword calling to me, constantly now. Why, other than to drive me mad?" She stood from the floor, looking to her hands, a flash before her eyes and her hands seemed monstrous for a moment, worse than even Samuel's, a grotesque eye staring back from the palm of her right hand. Her eyes widened as she continued to stare, fear threatening to swallow her whole.

"Why is this happening to me? I need to leave this place, the walls are closing in on me... I-I'm suffocating here!" Cassandra said as she paced back and forth in the dank, hidden dungeon. Samuel made a hissing-like cackle and Cassandra snapped her head in his direction. "STOP MOCKING ME!" She yelled as she hurled a loose stone into his cage hitting him square in the head. He backed off a bit, retreating to the recesses of his cell. "I'm tired of being weak! Why can't I fight this?" She grasped at her hair again, a scream of frustration escaping her lips. "I want to be normal again, I want to be done with this madness! I don't want to be like an animal anymore!"

She felt hot tears streaming down her face. "Oh, Sophitia, we've really done it this time haven't we?" She felt a laugh burble up inside her. "You're defending Soul Edge and here I am losing my mind while," she let out another half-crazed laugh. "while, forgive me, falling for that madman! What is wrong with me..." She leaned against the wall, her voice trembling from both tears and uneasy laughter. She tilted her head back as the laughter wouldn't end. "By the gods, Sophitia, what is wrong with me?"

"I thought you didn't believe in them anymore..." A soft, angry voice replied, interrupting Cassandra's maddened monologue and bringing her back to some semblance of sanity. Amy stepped into the pale light, her red eyes practically glowing. She observed Cassandra for a moment, carefully taking the other girl in."You're utterly coming apart at the seams. It seemed you were getting better too, pity. Papa wouldn't want a failure, wouldn't want another Samuel."

Cassandra lowered her head to look at Amy. "How long were you there?"

"Since you threw a rock at poor Samuel." Amy walked up to the bars of Samuel's cell, peering in as if to ignore Cassandra's presence completely. "I like Samuel." She started. "He's unassuming, just sits in his cell and quietly chatters to himself, devouring the rats and insects that are unfortunate enough to haplessly wander in." She turned to face Cassandra. "He's far different from you. You talk too much, ask too many things of Papa, and require far more attention than you're worth. Samuel was obedient and eager to please his master. It's your fault that Papa had to cut his hand off. Poor, poor Samuel... Why can't you be more like him?"

"What and be a savage animal? Yeah, no thanks." Cassandra said, a bit of her old self sounding off once more. "You've got a real attitude, Amy. Consider yourself lucky that I don't make a habit out of hurting small children." Cassandra sneered.

Amy tilted her head slightly. "How unfortunate for you..." And in an instant she produced her rapier from behind her back, driving it straight for Cassandra, who managed to catch it with her right hand, albeit painfully, before she could pierce her. "Huh?!"

Cassandra flashed a somewhat evil smile at the red head, ignoring the pain that shot through her hand. "What would Papa say if he saw you doing this? I bet he'd be furious." Cassandra's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't want your dear Papa to be angry with you, now would you? Of course not." She forced Amy's sword down and approached her, stopping mere inches from her face. "You've been nothing short of a pain in the ass since we've met. And trust me, I'd love nothing more than to slap that little brat smirk off your face, but seeing as though we're going to be stuck with each other for at least a little while longer, you're going to have to deal with me. Throw all the hissy fits you want, because I will ignore them. I'm not going to pretend to like you, and I don't expect you to do the same to me, just stay out of my way."

Amy just glared at Cassandra, watching as the blood dripped from her hand. She remained silent, her glare boring into Cassandra's eyes. "Are we clear?" Cassandra asked, her voice dripping with venom.

Amy narrowed her eyes. "Fine. Whatever..." She said as she turned on her heel to leave. "The words of a loser are meaningless anyway..." her voice trailed off as she left.

Cassandra watched as the young girl disappeared into the darkness, her eyes never leaving her retreating form as she licked the blood from the wound on her hand. "Pretentious little brat."

Cassandra ascended the stairs to return to the dining hall. She felt at least a little better having been able to take control of one situation.

* * *

A/N: This chapter was also a pain in the ass. It made panda cry. The story is getting a bit harder to write but fear not, I know precisely where I'm going, I just gotta figure how to get there.


	13. Chapter 13: The Masked

**Title:** The Pitfalls of Madness

**Chapter 13:** The Masked

**Author:** Alicia "Kamitose" Guy

**Summary:** After receiving a message from another swords girl to beware of Raphael, Cassandra seeks him out to settle the score once and for all, but is she truly prepared for what she is about to face?

**Rating:** R, for strong language, violence, and sexual situations.

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters in this piece of fiction belong to me. They belong to Namco. Dronia Fairborough and Samuel belong to me (don't worry, they are but a very bit parts, I don't even pair them up with anyone. They are not Mary Sue/Gary Stu.)

**Distribution:** As long as I am credited, and as long as you ask (and let me know once it's posted) then I don't care where it's distributed. BUT you have to ask.

**Author's Note: **This is my first ever Soul Calibur fanfiction. This site is severely lacking in Cassandra/Raphael fanfiction and I would like to help remedy that.

**SPECIAL THANKS TO ANYSIA FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA READER! **

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"_Wine spills in my blood tonight, blood spills in my mouth_

_You have what I'm looking for; oh you are just the type."_

_Dead Angels ~ VAST_

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Things had been quiet in the few days following the incident with Samuel. Cassandra's visions had actually subsided; the quiet though was almost as disconcerting as the voices that plagued her. The castle had been her silent asylum, isolation being her only friend as she tried to keep her deepening hunger in control. Raphael had scarcely been seen or heard in several days, and the few times he was about, he looked to be deep in thought. Cassandra noted his steadfast refusal to acknowledge her existence. Amy was hardly about as well. The servants of the castle would whisper when they thought Cassandra was out of ear shot, her recent outbursts had put new fear into them.

Night had once more fallen over the valley; the starry night burning brightly as Cassandra's soft footfall reverberated through the centuries old halls. She made her way down towards the dining hall, her thoughts disorganized as she entered the grand room. She cast tired eyes around the room, stopping as they came to rest upon his broad form. "Sit down, Cassandra." Raphael said evenly.

Cassandra eyed him hesitantly before taking her usual seat at the table. Raphael simply looked at his creation, all silvery blond hair and burning red eyes in the darkened hall. He calmly snapped his fingers and waited patiently for the two servants who came out carrying two bundled packages and laid them on the table before her. Cassandra eyed them curiously. "What's this?"

"I have to leave in a day or so. I cannot, however, leave without knowing that I've left Amy in good, _stable_ care. This will help you keep yourself in balance." He motioned to the package on the right. "Go on then, open it up." Cassandra could almost swear she saw a sick sense of amusement wearing on his cold features.

She reached her hands out anxiously, carefully untying the knot on the string that held the wrapping on. As she folded back the cloth she saw a glistening obsidian short sword and a blackened shield, oddly shaped, in the image of a bat, the eyes of it glistening a deep ruby red. Cassandra looked to Raphael in slight confusion as she picked up the sword, noting its excellent balance and tang. "They're nice…" She observed, turning her gaze back towards Raphael. "But they're not my weapons. What happened to the set I came in with? Where are _my_ weapons?" She asked, a bit of frustration in her voice.

Raphael narrowed his eyes. "They were made of a holy ore, as I am sure you know. They would be useless to you. You can't very well use a weapon that burns the very hands meant to wield it; now can you?"

Narrowing her eyes, Cassandra grit her teeth. "Then what became of them, Raphael?"

"I had them melted down. They are no longer of use to anyone in that form." Raphael said very matter-of-factly.

Cassandra felt vitriol burning in her stomach as she suddenly stood up from the table. "Rothion made those for me!" She shouted. "Those weapons were made special, just for me! You can't do that!"

"I already have… who is Rothion? A former suitor of yours?" Raphael asked. He wasn't quite sure why.

"He's my brother-in-law." She ground out through grit teeth.

"Convenient. I fully expect you to use and _appreciate_ your new weapons. I had them made specifically for you. The blade is black obsidian; seeing how you favored that kris I thought it only appropriate to use the same material for your new weapon." Raphael simply stated, an odd sense of relief washing over him.

Cassandra continued to glare at Raphael for a long moment. "If you melted them down, what are you planning to do with them? I'd think that they'd burn you just as much if not more so than it does me."

Seeming to ignore her inquiries, he motioned to the second, smaller package. "You still have another gift to open, child. This one is far more important than the first." He said crossing his arms.

Cassandra hesitated momentarily. She felt a strange, yet familiar energy emanating from the second package. Reaching tentatively for the package she slowly began to undo the string. This package was much smaller than the first but seemed to be wrapped in layers of silk. After finally discarding the last layer of material, Cassandra saw a strange mask with the bottom lip and chin missing from it. The mask was a very polished metal ore with blue crystal inlays and appeared to wrap around the back of the head. It resembled a beautiful woman wearing a helm, a blue crystal owl adorning the center of the visor. Under the mask was a black silk and leather outfit with inlays of white and gold, arm cuffs with blood red rubies, a red spiked shoulder pauldren, strange spiked wrist armor, and a black and gold cloak. Cassandra looked to Raphael with confusion.

Raphael calmly walked over to her picking up the mask. As he touched it smoke started to rise from his gloved hand. He winced only slightly as he examined the ornate and intricate mask in his hand. "Athena," He started, flipping the mask over in his hand. "Greek Goddess of Wisdom and Battle. Your matron goddess; am I correct?" He said finally facing her.

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. "I don't have any gods… remember?" She coldly remarked, crossing her arms as a sign of hostility.

"Now, now love. Mind your temper. This mask has a very special purpose. As I mentioned earlier, your old weapons are of no use to you. I should have phrased that better; I meant that they were of no use to you as fighting tools anymore. I did indeed have them melted down. This…" He motioned to the mask in his hand. "This is what has become of your weapons. This mask is made of the holy ore from your sword and shield, the crystal inlays are crafted from the holy stone that was used to run me through. The interior of this mask is lined with a soft red velvet to make wearing it a little more comfortable. And of course, I thought it only fitting to have it crafted to resemble Athena and bear her symbol, the owl."

Cassandra was shock silent for a moment. "So you're saying that you melted down my weapons because they would burn my hands if I tried to wield them, yet it's perfectly fine for me to wear the same holy ore on my face? You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to wear that." She said, her old rebellious nature kicking in.

"No, you are out of your mind which is exactly why you will be wearing this. The velvet lining will dampen the burn. The first couple of times you wear this it will hurt like hell for the first few moments. The pain will eventually become a dull throb. This mask is meant for you to maintain discipline. I can't be here to monitor you any longer, but as it stands you are a serious risk to my darling Amy and the servants of this castle. I cannot leave her in your protection when you cannot contain your own impulses and hunger. The holy energies from this mask should help to curb your dark urges and help you keep control of yourself. Eventually you will learn to control your hunger without the aid of the mask, but until that time you will need to wear it." He held the mask out to her. "Put it on."

"No." She stated simply.

"Then I shall make you wear it." Raphael retorted angrily. "Sometimes you are more difficult than you are worth, child." Raphael snapped his fingers again and the two manservants returned, each rushing to Cassandra's side and holding her arms down.

Cassandra began to resist. "Let me go!"

"Why do you always make things so difficult?" Raphael said calmly as he unlatched the sides of the mask and slipped it over her head and fastened it shut. The two manservants released their grip on her. Smoke rose from the cracks in the mask and Cassandra let out a painful scream as she grabbed her head. "I warned you that it would hurt at first. You are to wear this for an entire day and night to become acclimated to it. If you take it off, I will find out. There will be punishment." He said narrowing his eyes as he stepped back.

Cassandra did not respond, her jaw was clenched tight with pain as she squeezed her eyes shut. She just wanted the pain to stop.

Raphael turned towards the door. "You should change into your new clothes. I will expect you in the ball room later this evening. I will need to teach you how to use your new powers before I leave for the sword." As abruptly as his words ended, the staccato click of his boots resounded through the room as he shut the door behind him.

Cassandra sat quietly, her labored breathing the only audible noise in the dining hall. As the pain finally began to subside she turned her attention to the two manservants who stood by the door staring at her. "What are you looking at?" She spat. The two men nervously glanced at each other before turning back to her. "Leave before I kill you both." She snarled. The mask gave her an eerie, inhuman appearance. The two manservants made no hesitation in leaving the room.

Cassandra sighed as she looked over her new attire.

* * *

Having changed into the new armor that Raphael had given her; Cassandra made her way back to the dining hall so she could think for a while. The mask was irritating; she could feel a constant dull throb while wearing it. The room was empty and silent as she entered. She approached the broad windows, observing the moon as it spilled its unassuming light into the room. "This is stupid." Cassandra uttered under her breath. "I don't need this stupid mask. I can control myself just fine!"

Cassandra's thoughts were interrupted however by the sound of wings flapping almost violently behind her. She turned around to see a large black raven now perched at the head of Raphael's chair. The raven cocked its head inquisitively at Cassandra, its red eyes shimmering brightly in the moonlight.

"How did you get in here?" Cassandra asked curiously as she slowly approached the black bird. The bird remained still, unflinching as she neared. "You're a curious little guy aren't you." She said reaching out to stroke the raven's soft black feathers.

Without warning the bird flew violently towards Cassandra, diving for her face, attempting to peck at anything exposed. The mask was able to block most of the bird's attacks as Cassandra threw her arms up towards her face to protect herself. The bird circled around her a few more times, diving and tugging at her hair before retreating at long last out the window Ivy had broken over a week ago.

Cassandra rubbed the back of her head, confusion washing over her in waves. "What the fuck was that?"

* * *

Below the castle grounds a young girl sat giddily awaiting her messenger's return. The large black bird flew gracefully towards her landing softly on her armored hand. The girl's mad purple eyes widened with glee as the raven dropped a silvery blonde lock of hair into her hand. "Ooo, goodie! You brought me a present!" She chirped happily. She paused for a moment, picking her drossel off the ground. Narrowing her eyes she spoke once more, her voice taking on a far deeper, more sinister tone. "It looks like we'll have to smoke her out." Tira began walking towards a small hole in the castle walls, holding some sort of magical trinket in her hand. "But first, I want to play just with her just a little longer."

* * *

Cassandra took up her new arms and went looking for Raphael. There was something odd about the bird attack, she wasn't sure why, but she felt that Raphael needed to know what happened. She headed for the library as he was often known to be pouring over his research for hours on end. It was the most likely place for him to be.

Cassandra tentatively entered the library. The fire was crackling and popping in the hearth, it looked as if it had been lit recently. "Raphael, are you in here?" She asked somewhat timidly. The library was eerily silent. Something was wrong; the air did not feel right. Cassandra wrapped her arms around herself, shivering involuntarily as she explored the vast library. The walls were tall and literally not a single space on the many, many shelves was without a book to fill it. And yet while she should have smelt the odor of old books and burning logs, she picked up an entirely different scent. It was odd but the whole room smelled horribly of burnt hair.

"Raphael, where are you…" Cassandra asked more to herself than anyone else. She stopped suddenly as she caught movement out of the corner of her eyes. Jerking her body in the direction of the movement, she readied her weapons. "Whose the-" she stopped midsentence. She couldn't believe what she was seeing, as if from nowhere black feathers began falling from the ceiling, falling neatly into three piles about fifteen feet in front of her. "What in Hades is going on?" She shook her head. "This has to be another vision. This can't be real…" But before she could say anything more, the black feathers began to swirl into the air, clumping together and forming shadowy black masses as tall as men. When the swirling ceased, three pure black humanoid figures stood before her, each brandishing a weapon. The first figure bore a long staff, the second wielding a massive sword, most likely a zweihander, and the third carried two swords, one slightly longer than the other which was a gunblade. "Just a vision… it's just a vision."

But it wasn't just a vision. Cassandra yelped as the first figure smashed its staff into her side, a loud crack resounding through the large room. She slowly steadied herself as she stood from the floor. "Okay… not a vision. That means I can fight back." She snarled. She charged at the staff wielder but was knocked into the wall by the second warrior with the zweihander. Cassandra grabbed her head. The zweihander wielder reeled back to slash at her head but Cassandra ducked as his sword embedded into the wall, slicing an entire row of books in twain. As the second warrior tried to pull his sword from the wall, Cassandra ducked out and prepared to strike the distracted warrior. A shot rang out in the air as the third warrior fired his gunblade at her. The shot grazed the back of Cassandra's mask leaving a mark in it. Cassandra found herself being overwhelmed by the onslaught of three attackers.

The staff wielder made another rush attack towards her but Cassandra jumped back and blocked his attack with her new shield. "What are you?!" She yelled through grit teeth but her only answer was another blow from the gunblade. Cassandra pushed the staff wielder back and finally landed a blow on the assailant. The instant her sword connected with the shadowy figure he dispersed into a cloud of feathers.

Cassandra cocked her head to the side. "Hm! That's interesting…" She didn't have time to really ponder things though as the zweihander came rushing towards her. Cassandra blocked again but the force of the blow knocked her back several feet. "That all you got?!" The shadow with the two swords rushed her slashing at her leg, grazing it. "Guess not." She growled as she slashed back at the attacker and just like before it dissipated as her sword made contact.

The one wielding the zweihander readied itself once more. "Just you and me now. You want to tell me who sent you, or do we have to do this the hard way?" Cassandra asked, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. The last warrior simply stood straight up, holding his sword directly in front of him. Cassandra watched curiously, her face slowly wearing a look of dread as she saw a large eye suddenly open in the middle of the zweihander.

"The sword beckons…" The shadow whispered, its voice was ghostly, unnatural.

Cassandra froze momentarily, fear gripping her heart. Finally mustering her courage Cassandra narrowed her hell-red eyes. "No." She said darkly before driving her blade through the eye of the sword. The creature let out a horrible, inhuman shriek before dispersing like the other two.

Cassandra lowered her sword, her breathing heavy as her shoulders heaved. Collapsing to her knees, she let out an anguished cry. She ached fiercely from the battle and wanted nothing more than to just curl up and close her eyes until the madness and pain went away. But she knew that she couldn't. She had to be strong; she couldn't let the madness take her. No, she had to fight this. Cassandra slowly pulled herself off the floor. Her urgency in finding Raphael was heightened now. She rushed out of the room, frantically roaming the halls in search of the maddened lord.

* * *

Raphael made his way to the dining hall expecting to find Cassandra where he had left her. Turning the corner he found himself being knocked to the ground as Cassandra barreled into him in a frantic rush. He narrowed his eyes. "There had better be a good explanation for your erratic behavior, child."

Cassandra struggled to catch her breath for a moment before finally speaking. "I was attacked… in the library." She paused to take a few more breaths. "You need to come with me."

"The library?! If you damaged my library while in the throes of another vision…" Raphael started angrily.

"Not a vision…" Cassandra said lifting her jacket and shirt to show Raphael the blackened bruise along her side and back where the first phantom had struck her with his staff. "Something different."

Raphael examined the bruise carefully. "Who attacked you?" He said gingerly touching the wound.

Cassandra winced. "Not who, what. It was like I was fighting shadows. When I struck them, they turned into black feathers. It was weird. They're connected to the Azure Knight… of that much I am certain."

"Black feathers?" Raphael pondered for a moment. "How do you know they were connected to the Azure Knight?"

"Because the final one, who had a ridiculously large sword told me 'the sword beckons'. Who the hell else could it be, Raphael?" She snipped. "Now are you going to come with me to the library or not?"

Raphael narrowed his eyes. "You will change the tone in your voice when you speak to me, child. Show me what happened." Raphael commanded.

* * *

Raphael surveyed the damage as Cassandra finished retelling the entire ordeal. He ran his hands along the shelf where the zweihander had struck, frowning as he pulled out a book, _The Song of Roland_, only to see it fall apart in his hands. Raphael turned a scrutinizing eye to the center of the room. "Someone managed to enter my castle and perform a ritual under my nose, without me knowing…" he stated angrily as he approached a small trinket that lay in the center of the room. "This is very disconcerting." He said as he picked it up to examine it. Raphael whistled and one of his guards rushed into the room. "Sweep the castle grounds with every man at your disposal. Have them look for anyone unfamiliar. Someone has breached my defenses."

Raphael turned to Cassandra. "Your training has been moved up. If my home is going to be under attack, I need you ready immediately. Come now, we must make haste." He said as he grabbed her arm.

"But what about the attacker, if they're here now…" Cassandra started.

"If they were smart, they would have left by now. If not, my men will dispose of the impudent fool. Now come along." Raphael said tugging her out of the room.

* * *

Cassandra looked around wide-eyed at the gorgeous ballroom. The floors were adorned with intricate floral patterns and ceilings that looked as though they touched the sky. Her awe was cut short by Raphael clearing his throat. "Cassandra! You can admire the architecture later; I need you to pay attention to me right now." Cassandra turned her attention to Raphael as he waited impatiently, rapier in hand.

"I don't see why I have to do this; you and I both know that I am a capable fighter." Cassandra replied irritably.

"I'm not teaching you to fight; I'm teaching you to duel. Only a ruffian would view combat as nothing more than a brutal bloodbath, it is a dance. My dear, in battle you need grace, not just strength. A commoner's place in the battlefield is with a pike firmly in hand. Is that what you are, child? A commoner, a mere pawn?" He taunted.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" She defensively shot back.

"You said it yourself; you are but the daughter of a baker. Did you pretend to be a swordsman as a child, flailing the rolling pin about as if it were your mighty blade? While your commoner hands were caked in flour and dough, I was training with the best instructors France had to offer. You know nothing about a proper duel, you are brash and undisciplined… like a sough gorging herself in her trough. You are not a warrior, you are a starry-eyed, luck bound harlot. You unsophisticated, unrefined swine!" Raphael snarled, his voice reaching a crescendo as he ended his viscous torrent.

Cassandra tightened her grip on her sword. "I've put up with a lot of shit from you… but if you think you can call me a pig and expect me to take it, you've got another thing coming… you slimy little toad."

"Slimy little toad? Is that as sharp as your tongue gets?" Raphael laughed mockingly. "I hope your blade is sharper than your tongue, or I fear you shall end up on my dinner plate, _piglet_." A wicked smile played across his features. He was goading her; he wanted her to attack him without restraint. He needed her to be vicious.

"That's it!" Cassandra angrily bellowed. She raised her sword and charged at him, anger washing over her. Raphael's smile widened. As her blade neared his chest a red, misty aura quickly surrounded him and he vanished from sight. Cassandra stumbled forward having made an attack with no where to go. "What the hell?!"

Cassandra felt the coldness of steel pressed against her throat. "Surprise you, pet?" She could feel his breath hot on her neck.

"How did you-that was… that's not possible. No one's that fast!" Cassandra stammered as she felt him release his blade from her throat.

"No one human… speed has nothing to do with it. We are above the natural laws that govern man. We can bend the rules, use them as we see fit." He leaned closer until his mouth was next to her ear. "I merely manipulated my body, forced myself into a gaseous state, and reformed behind you. It's a wonderful tactic, catches them off guard every time. You have this ability as well, pet. Go on, try to use it."

Cassandra straightened herself out. "I can't… I don't know how."

Raphael narrowed his eyes. "What use to me are you then? Pathetic… seems you are nothing but a waste of my powers." He said goading her again.

"I'm not a waste; I'm not useless!" She shot back. She made no attempt to hide her anger as her sword hand shook with frustration.

"Look at you! You can't even hold your sword straight. And to think, you actually beat me once. I'm ashamed!" He said making his way around her until he was in front of her once more.

"Why are you doing this?" Cassandra asked angrily. "You know what I'm capable of. You know that I'm strong; that I have skills. Why are you mocking me?"

Raphael simply smiled. "Because I need you to show me that you are in control."

Cassandra grit her teeth. "I am in control…" She said, her voice tight and harsh.

"No, my love, you are not." He simply stated. Without warning he lunged forward his sharpened blade heading straight for Cassandra's heart.

Cassandra threw up her shield and blocked his attack. She snarled at Raphael. "Are you trying to kill me?!"

"You blocked it, didn't you?" He said disappointedly. "You haven't proven to me that you are in control." As soon as she lowered her shield, Raphael lunged forward with his blade once more, aiming for her heart once again.

Just like before Cassandra instinctively raised her shield and blocked the assault. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

"And again you fail me, love." Raphael said venomously. He reached out for her left arm all but tearing the shield out of her grasp and throwing it angrily to the floor behind him. "Again!" He lunged at her one more time.

Cassandra put her arms up defensively as she shut her eyes tight, bracing for the attack. As she did so, she felt a strange sensation wash over her body. A fleeting feeling of weightlessness rushed through her and an immense feeling of power rushed through her veins. Just as soon as the feeling had started, it was over. She slowly lowered her arms and opened her eyes. She saw Raphael's arm extended beside her, blade at full length as if he had actually gone through with his attack. He wore a pleased expression on his face.

"Now that your instincts have kicked in, I can teach you to control that power. You need to be able to do that ability at will. You need to be able to shift yourself further distances. Moving such a short distance may have worked this time, but strategically you need to move much further, preferably out of their peripheral view. You would have the strategic advantage." Raphael stated calmly.

"You mean… that just now… I actually did it?" Cassandra stammered.

"Yes, albeit sloppily, but you did it. Now, do it better." Raphael said slashing at her.

Cassandra parried his attack with her blade. "You expect me to be able to learn this stuff over night?"

"No, I expect you to learn this now." He said as he continued to barrage her with attacks.

Cassandra tried to keep up with his blade. He moved swiftly, angrily, striking high, striking low. Cassandra fought awkwardly, without her shield she had to adjust to dodging and blocking with her blade. Several times Cassandra went to block with her shield arm but quickly withdrew when she realized that she didn't have her shield with her. As Raphael continued to bear down on her, Cassandra finally managed to teleport away as Raphael increased his attacks, survival instincts once more kicking in.

A wicked smile wore across his features. _That's my wicked little girl_. Cassandra stopped for a moment, regaining her composure before grabbing her shield once more and resuming her fighting stance. Raphael appeared behind her, silently, and he wrapped his arms around her. Cassandra started as she felt his hands running slowly up her waist.

"T-This isn't part of the training… is it?" Cassandra asked.

"No." Raphael said darkly. He couldn't understand how someone could anger him so much and yet at the same time, hold his interests in such a way. He yearned for her in a way he had never felt for someone… he hated it. "Stupide fille, pourquoi avez-vous le faire pour moi?"

Cassandra just closed her eyes. He confused her so much sometimes. She should have hated him, she _wanted_ to hate him, but she couldn't. "Why can't I bring myself to hate you?" She asked quietly, her voice carrying louder than expected in the grand room.

"I don't know…" He quietly responded, lowering his head to her neck. The air hung thick with tension as the two stood in their silent embrace, uncertain of what to say. After what felt like an eternity Raphael opened his mouth to speak but was cut short when he noticed someone staring at them from the entryway. "Amy!"

There stood Amy, red eyes narrowed with anger, betrayal, and hatred; her tiny hands balled up tight in fists. Her mouth curled into an angry pout as she spoke. "You lied!"

* * *

A/N: Chapter 13, I hate you. I really fucking hate you. This chapter took me from November 2008 to February 2009. This was started right before my computer crashed so I lost everything and had to start over. Big thanks to husband for helping me find Raph's voice again. I had lost it for a short time. Thanks you Amethyst Light as well for the French. If you are curious as to what Raphael said, he said "Stupid girl, why do you do this to me?"


	14. Chapter 14: The Mirror

**Title:** The Pitfalls of Madness

**Chapter 14:** The Mirror

**Author:** Alicia "Kamitose" Guy

**Summary:** After receiving a message from another swords girl to beware of Raphael, Cassandra seeks him out to settle the score once and for all, but is she truly prepared for what she is about to face?

**Rating:** R, for strong language, violence, and sexual situations.

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters in this piece of fiction belong to me. They belong to Namco. Dronia Fairborough and Samuel belong to me (don't worry, they are but a very bit parts, I don't even pair them up with anyone. They are not Mary Sue/Gary Stu.)

**Distribution:** As long as I am credited, and as long as you ask (and let me know once it's posted) then I don't care where it's distributed. BUT you have to ask.

**Author's Note:** This is my first ever Soul Calibur fanfiction. This site is severely lacking in Cassandra/Raphael fanfiction and I would like to help remedy that.

**SPECIAL THANKS TO ANYSIA FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA READER!**

* * *

_"There is no you there is only me."_  
_Only ~ Nine Inch Nails_

* * *

The air in the room grew thick as Amy stared Raphael and Cassandra down. "You lied to me!" She repeated, addressing both of them with scornful eyes. Raphael stood speechless as his young daughter fumed, her mouth drawn in a hard line.

"Amy…" He repeated, letting go of Cassandra as he took a tentative step towards his daughter.

This time she said nothing; Amy simply turned on her heels and took off in a run. Without even looking back, Raphael took off after his beloved daughter, leaving Cassandra in the massive room by herself. Cassandra pondered for a moment on whether she should follow Raphael or not. Just as she had made up her mind to pursue him, a voice from the shadows echoed in the room.

"Ah, dilemmas, dilemmas. What are you going to do? You could go after him… or you could stay here and we could talk." The figure who owned the voice finally stepped out of the shadows to confront Cassandra. It was the doppelganger from before, this time she wore the same clothes as Cassandra, only without the mask that Cassandra now wore. "Surprised? You shouldn't be… we are one in the same."

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. "Quit saying that. I'm nothing like you." She replied taking a defensive stance, her hand upon her blade.

The doppelganger sighed, approaching Cassandra. "You honestly think that I come here of my own volition? I'm here because you need me here…" a sneer crossed her face. "Nice mask." She sarcastically remarked.

Cassandra started for the door when she felt herself being choked by her cloak. "No, no… they'll be fine without your interference. I really think we need to have a heart to heart, Cassie." The doppelganger smirked as she yanked back on the cloth of Cassandra's cloak, catching Cassandra off balance causing her to fall backwards onto the floor.

Cassandra grated her teeth in anger. "Leave me alone! I don't have time for this." She wrested herself from the doppelganger's grasp.

"Oh, you have time. You aren't going anywhere, dear. We really need to talk." The doppelganger said licking her teeth. "You've been a very bad girl… but you blame your actions on the wrong things. All that you've done has come from me… all that you've done has come from you. Not your transformation… you. That was all us. Every last cruel thing, every murder, every soul you freed from their mortal shell was our doing." She turned Cassandra around to face her and smiled darkly. "That darkness you feel, the voice that scratches at the surface of your mind, telling you terrible things?" She poked Cassandra hard in the chest. "Comes from right here. You are a wicked, wicked girl, and I've always been there with you."

Cassandra's eyes widened for a second. "You're lying!" She yelled. "Just shut up!" She slammed her head against the doppelganger's and took off in a sprint.

The doppelganger held her bleeding nose but just smiled. "You got a bit of a fight in you… good. I like that." She snarled as she chased after Cassandra and tackled her to the ground. "We aren't done yet!"

Cassandra squirmed under the doppelganger's weight, pushing its face away. "I'm done with this! GET OFF!" She spat.

The doppelganger punched Cassandra in the face. With dark mirth she looked down at the prone girl. "You remember torturing those poor peasants in the village? I know I sure do. That feeling you had deep in your gut, the enjoyment you suppressed, you've always had a cruel streak. But for years you suppressed me. Years, I've had to stomach your family making you be the docile, good little girl. Conforming to their teachings, conforming to their will. Gods, how I hated it. But now you have been letting me play. I really ought to thank Raphael, properly. He allowed you to be what you always were deep down. A monster. And for that, I am…" She leaned down and whispered sensually in Cassandra's ear, "_eternally grateful_."

Reaching her other hand out, Cassandra sought to silence the unwanted voice. She wrapped her hands around the doppelganger's throat and squeezed tightly. "I will shut you up, one way or another…" She started to smile as the doppelganger gasped in pain. She faltered however, when the doppelganger returned her smile, loosing her grip.

"Don't stop." She implored, grinning as she watched Cassandra's reaction.

"You're sick!" Cassandra replied, shocked.

"We're sick." She replied, grabbing Cassandra's wrists. "You're doing it all wrong… let me show you how it's done." She removed Cassandra's hands from her throat and then reached out and with her own and squeezed tightly. "Don't worry; I won't kill you, that'd kill me as well. Can't have that."

Mustering as much strength as she could, Cassandra kicked the doppelganger off her. "I've had enough of this 'we' bullshit. There is no 'we' here! There is only me." She said getting up, wiping the blood from her face. She picked her shield up from the ground and walked over to her darker half. "I'm ending this now." She raised her shield to bring it down on the doppelganger's head, a cold look of determination.

The doppelganger merely smiled. "Sweetie, you won't kill me." She stood up gaging Cassandra's reactions. "Just let it all go…" She reared back and plowed her fist into Cassandra's face again. "Give in to it."

Cassandra reeled back in pain. The doppelganger approached Cassandra, cracking her knuckles as she sauntered up. "You're nothing without me." Roughly grabbing Cassandra's shoulder, she pinned her against the wall. "We can have whatever we want, take whatever we like. But you won't let us. Will you?" She leaned closer to Cassandra. "Let me show you how it feels…"

Cassandra's eyes widened in pain and she let out a yelp as the doppelganger ducked her head down and bit hard into the flesh of her collar and began to drink deep. After a few moments, Cassandra reached around and grabbed the nape of the doppelganger's neck and ripped her off of her. "I'm ending this…" She repeated darkly.

The doppelganger smiled wickedly, blood staining her curled lips. "And what are you going to do? Hide from your true nature once again?" The doppelganger paused. "Just. Give. In!" She raised her shield slamming it into Cassandra's stomach with each word.

Cassandra pushed the doppelganger back forcefully. "You want me to give in?" She asked furiously. "Alright, I'll play." She approached her dark half with a quickened pace. "All my anger, all my hatred, all my brutality… all of it comes from here?" She said putting her hand to her chest. "You want me to embrace this? My nature? My impulses and desires?"

Cassandra grabbed the doppelganger by the face and squeezed.

For a moment, she seemed to emulate Raphael's haughty style, menacing tone and arrogant posture, as she clenched tightly and her foe struggled against the increasing pressure of her grasp.

"Fine, then. Let's dance." She said.

She used her new strength to fling the doppelganger into a shelf. She then grabbed a large candelabrum and walked towards her. She swung the candelabrum at the doppelganger's head, a loud crack resounding through the room. "That's for throwing me into those doors." She swung again. Another sickening crack ripped through the room. "I think I like embracing my brutality." She swung once more, knocking the doppelganger completely prone.

* * *

Raphael followed Amy as best as he could but she always remained ahead of him. He thought he had lost her for a moment but taking in his surroundings, something felt wrong. Very wrong. He surveyed the halls and found a set of doors ajar. The dining hall doors. He rushed in and grew paler at the site he saw before him.

There stood Tira, the maniac who had broken into his castle once before. She had Amy inside her ring blade; the young girl pushed up against the edge with Tira's booted foot to her back applying slight pressure. Amy was vainly struggling.

"Oh, goody! Daddy's here too! Now we can start the party." Tira exclaimed with sadistic glee. She pushed her foot a bit more against Amy's back. Amy winced in pain as the inner blade dug into her stomach slightly.

"You arrogant bitch. Unhand my daughter before I rend your limbs from your body." Raphael responded, angrily.

Tira's face turned serious, her eyes narrowing. "I doubt you'd be fast enough. I'd push her through before you'd make up half the difference in distance." Tira smiled. "I just wanted to play with your daughter."

Raphael's voice caught in his throat. He looked beside him at the hearth, the embers still hot from the recently extinguished fire. "You think I need to cross this room to get to you? You underestimate me greatly, child." Raphael stated darkly as he painfully grabbed a handful of hot embers with his right hand and tossed them at Tira's face.

Tira shrieked in pain as the hot embers burned her face. Amy took the opportunity to wiggle out of the ring blade and break free. Raphael looked to Amy in slight relief. "Go Amy! Get out of here, now!" Amy nodded and fled without another word.

As Tira finally recovered from the pain she snarled looking up at Raphael, her mood taking a much more dour turn. "You'll pay for that one, dead man. I'll cut you into tiny pieces and feed them to my birds."

Raphael drew Flambert and sneered. "You'll do no such thing. You already owe me for the trouble you caused the last time. You never properly repaid me for destroying my balcony. You shall pay for it with your blood." He charged at Tira never once letting himself be distracted as he went to strike.

She parried his blow with her ring blade and grimaced. "Pathetic little man. We should have done this weeks ago, but she wasn't quite ready yet. I hated seeing your miserable existence continue. You are nothing but a tool that has outlasted its use." She dipped down and swung her ring blade at Raphael's feet, but he jumped back in time to avoid having them severed at the ankles.

"What are you speaking of? I, stupid girl, am no tool. Have you any idea whom you are addressing?" Raphael replied angrily.

Tira frowned deeply. "Do I really look like I care who you are? You are no longer of use to us. We only need Cassandra now. You did so well in corrupting her, but she is no longer yours."

Raphael lunged at Tira, fully intending to spill blood. His eyes burned with fury as he unleashed his rage through his honed blade. His first two blows missed, blocked by her exotic weapon; but his third made contact with flesh of her right side, cutting deep into the tissue and sinew. The smell of blood permeated the air, slicing through the otherwise crisp scent of mountain snow.

Tira looked at the blood flowing down her side. A crooked smirk made its way across her child-like features. She spun the drossle in her hand, round and round until finally hitting Raphael square in the chest… right over the wound that had finally healed. Raphael reeled backward in great pain, holding his wound with his gloved hand. "Ha ha ha ha ha! Gotcha!" She squealed. "This is going to be fun!"

Breath rasping through grated teeth, Raphael stared the young girl down; his eyes blazing with murderous intent. "You enter my home an uninvited pest, destroy my belongings, threaten my beloved daughter, and now make me stain the floor with my own blood?" He flinched in pain. "You have the very nerve to call me a tool and to insinuate that nothing I have done was my choice to begin with? I will see your head… mounted to my wall as a trophy, you insolent child." He used the wall to support him as the pain grew worse. "I will not allow you the satisfaction of defeating me… not here… not in my own domain." He pushed himself painfully from the wall, weakly raising his blade in her direction. "Now then, let us finish this."

"Awww… did I hit a sore spot on the poor old man?" Tira mocked sliding toward Raphael, blade under her feet.

Raphael tried a move borne of desperation, lunging toward Tira, knocking her off her ring blade and pinning her to the floor. "Old man? Quite the contrary child, I'm feeling more spry than ever!" A wicked smile graced his wicked face as his own blood dripped from his mouth. He forced his sword to her throat. "Pathetic how all of your talk of grand schemes will mean nothing once you are dead."

Tira merely smiled. "You're wrong." And she dug the clawed tips of her gloves into his stomach, savoring the pained cry he let out. She pushed him off of her and ran to grab her weapon. "I'm bored now. Bye-bye…"

* * *

Amy ran furiously, sword in hand, down the halls trying to find where Cassandra might be. She hated admitting it but she needed help to aid her father, especially from her, but there was no other choice. As she made her way down the halls she heard a great clamor coming from the ballroom where she had left her father and Cassandra behind. She readied her weapon in apprehension as she approached the doors.

* * *

Cassandra paused for a moment, candelabrum raised high above her. The doppelganger waited, trying to gauge what Cassandra might do. The room grew eerily silent as an eternity seemed to pass.

"You can't do it can you?" The doppelganger finally asked. "You can't bring that thing down on my head and end me. Pathetic." She sneered.

Cassandra's face betrayed no emotion as she watched the doppelganger below her. "Actually, I'm just thinking about how wonderful it will be to have peace and quiet once you're out of the way."

"Sweetie, I'm not going anywhere." The doppelganger whispered. Her words, soft as they were uttered seemed to echo loudly through the vast room.

There was a hesitation in Cassandra's movement as she brought the candelabrum down, stopping only momentarily before finally bringing it swiftly onto her oppressor's head; the sickening crack reverberating through the ballroom.

She closed her eyes as the silence enveloped her. Her shoulders heaved in exhaustion as the only sound that resounded through the room was the sound of her labored breathing. When she opened her eyes, at her feet was a pile of black feathers, and buried amongst them, a shard of mirrored glass. Cassandra carefully picked the glass up, examining it carefully.

"Cassandra?" called an urgent voice.

Cassandra turned around towards the doors to see a very distressed Amy. Cassandra narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she bent down to pick up her sword. "What do you want?" She muttered irritably, failing to notice the bloody laceration across the young girl's stomach.

"It's Papa! He's being attacked. We need to help him!" The girl demanded.

Cassandra rotated her sore shoulder briefly. "You only play nice when it's convenient for you, huh?"

Amy glared at the older girl. "If you cared for him half as much as you act like you do, you'd come immediately!" She paused. "Please… I can't help him by myself." She sheepishly muttered.

Cassandra's demeanor changed. "Where is he?"

"The dining hall! Follow me." Amy said taking off.

"I know how to get there." Cassandra irritably groused as she followed.

* * *

Tira stood over Raphael, her ring blade around his neck. She had pinned one of his arms to the floor with his own blade. He laid weakly on the floor, trying desperately in vain to fight back, but he had lost so much blood. She smiled. "Nightmare sends his regards, Raphael." She pulled back on the ring blade a bit, cutting into the flesh of his neck.

Cassandra and Amy burst into the room, swords raised, red eyes blazing in anger.

"Let him go, Tira…" Cassandra demanded. She had recognized the girl as the one who had tried to take her niece and nephew once before.

Tira looked up in surprise to see the two girls, battered as they may appear, to be standing before her. Her chipper disposition quickly grew sour. "No! No! No! This will not do! This will not do!!!" She said stomping her feet childishly. "You aren't supposed to be here yet! We had you distracted!"

"Distracted? That was your doing?" Cassandra asked surprised.

Raphael gasped in pain as Tira pulled a little more on the ring blade. "You're too late. What's done is done and we will win either way. You've lost. You've all lost." A maddened laugh burbled from the small framed girl.

Amy and Cassandra glanced at one another before looking back to Tira and Raphael. Again they threateningly raised their swords towards the crazed girl. As if on cue, they charged at Tira.

"This isn't over…" Tira proclaimed as she realized that in this case she was out-numbered and out-matched. She quickly removed her drossle from around Raphael's neck and fled out the broken window to the ground below before disappearing into the night shadows.

Cassandra and Amy took no time in running over to Raphael, who appeared crumpled in pain. Gingerly lifting Raphael's head onto her lap, Cassandra held her wrist up to her mouth. "You're weak... let me help you."

Raphael squirmed a bit in protest. "I do not require any help from you." He let out a grunt of pain. "I'll be fine." he muttered through grit teeth.

"Papa, please listen to her." Amy pleaded. Her red eyes were wrought with worry.

Cassandra looked sternly at Raphael. "You are bleeding all over the place. Would you stop being so damn stubborn?" She used her teeth to make a cut in her wrist and lowered her bleeding arm down towards Raphael's mouth.

"You need your strength." She reminded him sternly.

Raphael just glared at her for a moment. "The moment I show weakness to you..." He started.

"Just shut up and drink!" Cassandra said forcing her wrist to his lips.

Amy watched quietly as her father, acting reluctantly at first, finally took hold of Cassandra's arm and began to partake of her offering. Cassandra winced every now and then when he would dig his teeth into her flesh, but she waited patiently for him to finish. He finally released his grasp on her, having taken enough to allow him to get up. He knew draining too much from her would make her weak and incapable of defending his daughter.

Cassandra drew her arm back to nurse the throbbing wound. She felt a little light headed, but knew that it was nothing compared to what he must have felt. "Better now?"

Raphael sat up and reached for his sword. "No thanks to you. Where were you?" He asked, anger permeating his tone.

"Wow, you're welcome..." Cassandra muttered under her breath. She stood up showing signs of battle damage, her clothing reeking of her own blood. "Had a bit of a problem of my own." She tossed the mirror shard to Raphael. "Took care of it though. Turns out, I'm not as crazy as I thought. Someone was messing with me. Keeping me distracted from saving your ass, obviously. If it weren't for Amy, I wouldn't have arrived as fast as I did."

Raphael looked to Amy. "Are you alright?" He asked gingerly.

"I'm fine, papa. The wound isn't deep." She said looking down at her ruined dress. "But this was my favorite dress."

Finally standing, Raphael used his sword to help him balance. He gazed around the room in disgust. "This will not do." He quietly pondered his next course of action, the creases in his forehead showing great concentration. "I must leave tonight. The plans will not change."

Cassandra gave him a look of disbelief as she grabbed his arm. "Are you out of your damn mind? You can't go anywhere in the shape you're in! You'll get yourself killed!"

His red eyes flared momentarily. "You will unhand me, wretched girl."

Cassandra stared him down. "No."

The room was silent for almost a minute as they continued to stare each other down. Finally, Raphael broke the silence. "I don't know whether I should be relieved that you are finally showing loyalty to me, or furious that you would dare defy me." He paused. "I am leaving tonight and that is final. These wounds will be healed shortly. You must focus on your task at hand." He wrenched his arm from her grasp.

Amy looked to Raphael, her eyes showing deep concern. "Papa, please be careful." She almost pleaded.

Raphael leaned down and kissed Amy on the forehead. "I will. Take care my dearest one. I will return shortly." He said before heading to the doorway. He turned back to glance at Cassandra one last time, his expression completely unreadable, as a thousand conflicting thoughts warred in his mind.

And then he was gone.

* * *

A/N: Dear god this chapter was HARD! I can't believe I actually finished it. It was hard deciding what to for the end of this chapter. This fic has now been written in 3 different homes. My first apartment where I started the fic. The bulk of the fic was written in my 2nd apartment, and now I finished this chapter in my new house. Gorram thats a lot of places. Well hopefully chapter 15 won't take nearly as long. We're past the half way point here.


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